


Hearts Made of Gold

by madameHunterr



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Assassin's Creed III, Connor - Freeform, Drama, F/M, Fanfiction, OC, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-15 04:15:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13023039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madameHunterr/pseuds/madameHunterr
Summary: The story of Connor Kenway and Octavia Violette D'Egidio living together with Achilles as Assassins. ConnorxOC [WARNING: contains Violence, Language and Sexuality/Nudity)





	1. Betrayal

Lying down on the floor, doodling on some paper in her bedroom. Legs up and swinging around, immersed in her drawing. Her mother sat on her bed, watching her daughter in adoration. They heard the front door open, both looking up and at each other as it slammed shut.

"Isabella!" she heard her father call out.

The hairs and pores on her skin rose, sending a chill down her spine. He had been drinking again.

"Isabella! Octavia!" he screamed out their names.

She didn't want to answer him. She never knew what he was capable of when he was in such a state. She looked to her mother, frightened.

"It will be alright, amore mia. (my love)" her mother spoke her to calmly, not letting her own worry show to her daughter.

"Octavia Violette D'Egidio!" he called again.

"Sì, papà? (Yes, papa?)" she finally answered, making her way to the stairs. She sat closer to the top, watching him.

"Get your ass down here, ora! (now!)" he order her upon her appearance.

She got up immediately, but hesitantly made her way down the wooden stairs, gripping on to the rail.

"Ciao, papà. (Hello, papa) Dinner is ready for you." she said as she walked to the kitchen, hoping to avoid being scolded.

He grabbed her face in his hands, "Where is your mother?" he asked her, alcohol heavy on his breath.

"She is resting, papà." she said through her squished face.

"Emilio, do not hurt my daughter." her mother suddenly said sternly through her thick Italian accent.

He turned his attention to her mother, "Si cagna! (You bitch!) You've been spreading lies about me!"

"What are you speaking of? I have not." she replied, trying not to show fear toward him.

"You have been telling people that I am not a good husband!" he yelled, walking toward her.

She backed away, back to the second floor, "Emilio, I would not say such a thing..."

He made his way up the stairs, eyes never leaving his wife as she continued backing away, "People have spoken, Isabella. People have talked about how I drink too much at home, and I beat you and Octavia."

"I have not said a word, Emilio. That is our privacy." she said, trying to keep him calm as she was now in the bedroom.

"Non mentirmi! (Do not lie to me!)" he yelled, rushing forward to her.

She tried to close the door, but the force he put into it knocked the door open, hitting her in the face and on to the floor.

Octavia rushed upstairs, clutching a small painting of her and her mother and watched in horror as her father repeatedly punched Isabella in her face. "No! Papà, stop! Per favore! Papà, no!" she begged of him, but her words were unheard.  
(No! Papa, stop! Please! Papa, no!)

Octavia stood in place, shaking as he saw the movement of her mother slowly die down; but her father didn't stop.

Emilio finally stopped and got up, looking to his daughter. She looked at her mother lying still on the floor, blood spattered all over, on her clothes and on her father. She was dead...she must have been. Her face was unrecognizable, not the beautiful woman she was looking at only mere moments ago.

Octavia wasted no time in rushing down the stairs and out the door, her father calling after her. She could feel her heart beating in her ear, but she had to get away. The cool air that the night brought hadn't even penetrated her from the adrenaline rushing through her body. Her feet carried her as far as she could go, into a forest. Where exactly she was going, she had no idea, but she had to get away from the man. Her running picked up pace whenever the sound of her father calling out her name echoed through the forest. She continued running, almost running into a group of redcoats, but luckily ducked into some nearby bushes.

Her adrenaline began dying down and she was beginning to feel the cool air that the night brought. She was grateful that it was still summer. She couldn't have survived otherwise. Clutching on to her picture still, she managed to climb up into a tree to stay safe from any monsters that might lurk her way. She used the moon's light to look at the picture of her and her mother on the ship coming from Italy when she was younger, but all she could see was the image of her mother lying dead on the floor, covered in her own blood. She covered her mouth to silence her whimpers as she cried.

She now carried the guilt of telling her friend of what her father often did. Something she told her friend in secrecy and swore her to not tell a soul. Her friend betrayed her trust and now, her mother was dead because of it. What had her friend said, exactly? She must have twisted the story enough that her father thought her mother had spoken of his acts behind closed doors. All she wanted were ears to listen to what she couldn't tell anyone else. She would never trust a soul again, not after such betrayal.

* * *

When she woke, the pain of hunger struck her. She needed food, but there was nowhere that she could get any from. Perhaps there was no food within miles. She didn't know how to hunt. Maybe there were fruit in trees, but walking around with her head in the sky wouldn't be the greatest of ideas with soldiers walking amongst the Frontier.

A group of redcoats were marching toward her. She watched intently, noticing that the last in line, beating a drum, would be the best option if she was going to try and get some supplies. She would be killed if she got caught, but she could no longer live in fear. She had to take her chances. She left the picture in the tree, climbing down after the soldiers went by.

She scanned the area, picking up a flattened rock, and another not so much before climbing back up in the tree. She began scraping the two together, hoping to fashion something sharp enough to snag the bag off of the redcoat when they passed by again. She was very grateful for survival lessons with her mother. She never really thought that she'd ever need to use anything she learnt, but fate had clearly proven her wrong.

A few hours later, the redcoats made their way back around. She'd finished sharpening her rock not too long ago and she was glad that she didn't have to wait for very long either. She climbed down the tree, leaving the picture in the tree once more and hid amongst the nearby bushes, watching as they walked past her. She quietly climbed out of the bushes and followed the last in line as carefully as she could, slowly etching away at the strap attached to the bag.

She was amazed that he didn't notice, but couldn't be more grateful that he and the other soldiers' movements and the beats of his drum drowned out any sounds she was making. It wasn't a thick strap, so it hadn't taken much to cut. The problem was continuing to follow behind him, trying to get it from around his body. She contiued to slowly pull, hoping that he didn't feel anything and sure enough, the strap finally let loose.

She dashed back to the bush to hide, tying the strap of the bag back together and threw it over her shoulder. She climbed back up the tree and opened the back to see what may be useful to her. Inside contained three apples, a small knife, a few coin and some bandaging. She wasted no time in cutting out a quarter of the apple and eating it rather quickly. As much as she wanted more, she'd have to ration her supplies. She stuffed her picture and makeshift weapon in the bag and climbed down from the tree. She couldn't stay there forever and had to find some sort of official sanctuary.


	2. A Friend

Octavia was still unsure as to where she was going. She'd eaten the last of the apples only a few days ago, and managed to snag a couple off of some man who was carting along the Frontier. She couldn't keep this up. She had to find somewhere to stay sufficiently, but feared speaking to anyone, afraid that they may return her to her father, kill her, maybe even torture her...or worse.

She was walking through the forest near a lake when she heard a noise that wasn't her own. She quickly found her way into a tree, should it be a wolf or a pack of them. But it wasn't a wolf, or any animal. It was a boy. She watched him intently, observing what he carried on his person. He had a quiver with a few arrows in it and a bow around his torso along with a sort of axe he carried around his hip.

He bent down near the lake and dipped his hand into the water. He removed his weapons and shirt and walked into the lake, diving down when he was able to and rose back to the surface, looking out to the body of water. She took this as an opportunity to rid him of his axe, since he didn't appear to carry anything else on him.

She picked up the axe and was going to run off with it, but stopped in contemplation of taking the quiver and bow.

"Stop!" he yelled and she turned to see him getting out of the water. She grabbed the axe and ran as fast as she could, but was soon tackled to the ground.

"Mi dispiace! Mi dispiace! (I'm sorry! I'm sorry!)" she said with her face still pressed against the dirt.

He rolled her over, "Per favore (Please), take your items and do not harm me!) she pleaded.

He stayed silent, observing her for a few more seconds. She was filthy, perhaps adding to the brilliance of her hazel eyes. How long had she been out here?

"Why have you taken my weapons?" he asked her.

She stayed silent, observing his freckles and short, black hair, "I was only looking to protect myself." she explained. "Mi dispace..."

He continued looking at her as he lifted himself off the petite girl, "Why are you out here?" he asked her.

She said nothing. He turned to leave, seeing that she would not answer him.

"I have no home." she blurted out. He turned to look at her, "I...have no home." she repeated more softly, a tear running down her face.

He stayed silent as he dressed himself, reattaching his tomahawk and quiver before draping his bow over his shoulder. He walked back to her, staring at her silently. She looked up at him, unsure of what was to happen.

"Come with me." he said and continued walking on.

"How can I trust you?" she asked him.

He turned to look at her once more, "I have no reason to harm you." he said simply.

She looked at him dead in the eyes, searching for the truth behind his words. There was something in his eyes that told her that he could be trusted. What did she really have to lose at this point, anyway? She gave a small smile before following behind him.

* * *

"What is your name?" she asked him.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton." he responded.

"Che cosa? (What?)" she asked, confused as to what he had just spoken.

He stopped to look at her, " _Ra-doon-ha-ge-doon._ " he sounded out for her.

"Ra-doon-ha-ge-doon..." she repeated him.

"That's it." he agreed and continued to walk, she followed.

"I like it." she said. He'd never been complimented on his name before, "What does it mean?"

"Life that is scratched."

"It is very unique."

"What is your name?" he asked her. He spoke rather gently for carrying such weapons.

"Octavia Vi—" she began, but stopped herself from giving her full name.

"What?" he asked.

"My name is Octavia." she mumbled.

"Octavia." he repeated as he climbed up a rock, extending his hand to help her up.

She looked at his hand, hesitant to take hold of it. She looked him in the eyes. Should she be trusting him? What if he would harmed her? Something inside of her calmed the thoughts when looking into his eyes, the same look that she received when she first agreed to travel with him. His eyes told her that he wouldn't let harm come to her, "Si. (Yes.)" she confirmed, taking a hold of his hand.

* * *

The two continued to travel together, whever it was that Ratonhnhaké:ton was heading to. Encountering a leopard, Octavia managed to stand still, completely frightened as Ratonhnhaké:ton circled it, twirling the tomahawk in his hand and keeping the fierce animal in front of him. The leopard leapt forward and Ratonhnhaké:ton dropped onto his back, slicing at its belly and putting the animal down. She continued to stand still, shaking in her shoes and refusing to move. Ratonhnhaké:ton had to reassure her that she was safe and he had the skill to keep her that way in order to make her move once again.

She began feeling like a burden to the Native boy she was travelling with. As if he might have thought he to protect her from harm constantly. That he had to stop and help her up certain terrain and she was slowing him down.

"You can leave me here, if I'm making it harder for you to get to your destination." she offered.

"Are you touched in the head?" he asked her, "I will not just leave you here and continue on."

"But I am taking so much of your time, having to stop and help me."

"I will not leave you alone out here to be killed." he said sternly, never stopping to look at her.

"Grazie… (Thank you)" she spoke as she continued to follow him.

* * *

It took quite some time, but the two had finally arrived to Ratonhnhaké:ton's destination. He told her to wait in place as he made his way to the door, but she didn't listen, following behind him due to not wanting to be too far away from the boy.

He knocked and waited, looking back at her for a moment. There was no answer. He knocked again and an older man opened the door.

"What?" he asked, looking at Octavia for a split second before returning his eyes to the Native boy.

"Uhm...I...I was told you could train me." Ratonhnhaké:ton mustered.

"No." the old man answered back, closing the door in his face.

He knocked again.

"Go away!" the old man yelled out.

"Scortese… (Rude...)" Octavia said under her breath.

"I'm not leaving!" Ratonhnhaké:ton informed him, looking over to the stables and began walking toward it.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton?" she called out as she followed him, "What is going on?" she asked.

"We're not leaving. He has to accept to train me." he huffed, walking through the rain.

"Train you? What does that mean?"

"I am not sure, but I will find out." he said, determination in his voice. "We need a place to camp. This should do." he said as they arrived at the stables. He unrolled a sleeping mat and lied down.

Octavia looked at him for a moment, "May I rest with you?" she asked shyly, prepared for 'no' to be the answer.

Ratonhnhaké:ton turned slightly, looking at her. He shuffled over, creating space for her and she lied down, their backs facing each other.

She thought about her life the past few days. How much everything had changed; she'd gone from living a life of luxury—despite the abuse, to a life of little clothing upon her back, a rucksack and the basic survival skills she was taught. Now she found a friend in this Native boy who had her sleeping in a stable. Still, it was comforting to know that she wasn't alone and that he cared enough to not leave her in the wilderness to die in some horrible manner.

"La pioggia è bella... " she muttered.  
(The rain is beautiful…)

"What?" he asked, unable to understand what she spoke.

"I said the rain, it is beautiful." she clarified.

"It is. It cleanses the land."

She stood up, walking out into the rain, looking up with her hands held out.

"What are you doing?" he asked her as he watched her stand in the rain, "You will become ill."

"I have no felt the touch of rain on my skin in a long time. I have dirt on my skin, it has never rained hard enough to wash it off well."

"Why not cleanse in the lakes?" he asked curiously.

"Because..." was all she said before coming back to the stables, standing in the corner as she shivered and watched the water drip from her body to the stable floor.

"That is not a reason." he informed her.

"I...I cannot swim." she admitted.

There was a moment of silence before she heard a chuckle erupt from Ratonhnhaké:ton's throat.

"It is not funny!" she pouted, twisting her hair to wring out the excess water.

"I am sorry." he said, looking at her, "Now you are wet and soaking the floor."

"It will dry and so will I. I will be clean in the morning." she smiled and began removing her shirt but stopping to glare at Ratonhnhaké:ton.

His eyes widened and he hid his face in the sleeping mat, cheeks heated from slight embarassment.

She wrung out the water from her shirt and replaced it, proceeding to do the same with her pants. She lied back down, making sure not to touch Ratonhnhaké:ton so as to not wet his clothing as well.

* * *

Octavia woke to find herself alone. She looked around the stables, but Ratonhnhaké:ton was nowhere to be found.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton?" she called out, looking to the manor to see him walking along the side of the building. She quickly got up and ran toward him. "What are you doing?"

"There must be a way in." he said simply, knocking on the back door.

"Are you going to break in?!" she asked, rather worried.

"Relax, I am simply trying this door." he told her. "Please, all I ask is a moment of your time!" Ratonhnhaké:ton called out to the old man.

He peeked his head out of the window, looking to the Native boy, "I apologize if I've been unclear—or otherwise confused you with my words. It was never my intention to mislead you." he began. Ratonhnhaké:ton moved to see the man better as he continued speaking, "So let me try to clarify: _Get the hell off my land!"_ he yelled, proceeding to close his window.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton maybe you should leave him be." Octavia suggested.

He paced around, hands upon his hips and looked deep in thought before he began walking away, "I'm coming up!" he called out.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton! No!" she said, but made no physical move to stop him.

He said nothing as he began to climb up the pillar, grabbing a hold of the railing. She couldn't help but admire his skill and how he managed to get to the balcony with ease as she tried to see as best as she could from below.

Ratonhnhaké:ton grabbed the door knob and began jiggling the piece of metal, "Just hear me out! What are you so afraid of?" he called out to the man. He let the door go and took a step back as soon as the door swung open, the old man appearing with an irate expression on his face.

"Afraid? You think I'm afraid of _anything_ , least of all, a self-important little scab like you?!" he asked furiously and lifted his cane, swooping it underneath Ratonhnhaké:ton's legs, causing him to fall to the floor of the balcony. He took the handle of his cane, pressing it to the boy's chest as he held his hands up to surrender, "Oh, you might dream of being a hero. Of riding to rescues, of saving the world—but stay this course and the only thing you're gonna be is _dead_." he finished his sentence, tapping Ratonhnhaké:ton with his cane before moving to go back inside of his home, looking to the boy once more, "The world's moved on, boy. Best you do too." he advised before slamming the door shut.

Ratonhnhaké:ton huffed, "I will not leave! Do you hear me?! I am _never_ leaving!" he yelled to the door. "Just wait, old man..." he said in a softer tone.

He hopped down to the grass to see Octavia looking at him with a confused expression on her face, "What happened?"

"I will not be defeated so easily..." he mumbled as he grabbed her arm and lead her back to the stables. She wasn't sure what to make of his demeanor, but he wasn't letting her arm go and his grip was beginning to hurt her.

"I can walk on my own you know!" she informed him and he let go, storming off at a faster pace to the stables. She looked at him as he sat with his arms and legs crossed.

"You should not act like such a child," she told him, "It does not suit you."

"Be quiet. You're just a silly girl." he growled out.

"I am _not_ a silly girl!" she yelled, kicking him in his leg.

"You did not have to kick me!" he said, rubbing the area.

"Stronzo! (Asshole!)" she yelled, walking over to the next stable with the horse she'd taken a liking to.

By the time he was ready to apologize to her, he stood up and went out to see that she had fallen asleep right outside of their sleeping area. He picked her up gently and placed her on the sleeping mat, lying down next to her and trying to catch some sleep as well.


	3. All Of Them

Ratonhnhaké:ton woke up to the sound of footsteps, looking over to see that Octavia was still sleeping. He lifted himself up, picking up Octavia as well and covered her mouth, whispering for her to keep quiet and she did as asked. The two listened carefully once he moved them out of sight, though she wasn't sure as to what she was listening to just yet.

"He's a square toes—this'll be easy." the man said with a strange accent.

She'd heard it before, though. A colleague of her father's had a similar accent, Irish as far as she remembered. She never liked him, he always smelled of beer.

Ratonhnhaké:ton shifted Octavia's weight off of him and began standing up. She clung on to his arm, trying to keep him there with her. He gave her a reassuring look, that same look in his eyes that told him everything would be alright.

"That's what you said last time and I wound up with a dead 'orse an' a dark eye." the other man said, his accent being one that she'd never heard before.

"Who are you?" Ratonhnhaké:ton asked the men and they looked at him, one stepping closer to the Native boy.

"No one you need concern yourself with, little breeches." the Irish-sounding one told him.

The other funny-sounding one began stepping toward Ratonhnhaké:ton as well, "Best cut 'fore something bad 'appens." he threatened.

"No." he stood his ground.

They looked to each other before their eyes returned to him, "Can't say we didn't warn ya." one of them said, both of them preparing to fight the boy.

They unsheathed their swords and Ratonhnhaké:ton pulled out his tomahawk. One took the first swing, but he quickly countered, driving his weapon into the back of the man's neck.

Octavia looked in shock as Ratonhnhaké:ton easily evaded the other man, standing behind him and wrapping his arm around the man's neck, twisting until it cracked. His limp body fell on the floor. She looked over to see that a group of them were coming toward her friend now. She couldn't just sit there and do nothing. She ran out, grabbing the sword of the fallen man, standing next to Ratonhnhaké:ton.

"I told you to stay hidden!" he scolded her.

"And let you fight them alone?! I wouldn't let that happen!"

One man charged at her, but the ducked under, turning around in time and slicing his back open with the sword before forcing it through him when he turned around, the blade appearing on the other side.

"Impressive..." Ratonhnhaké:ton complimented her.

"Could say the same for you." she told him with a smile on her face, countering the next man charging at her.

One after the other, the two took out each and every man that attempted to attack them. Soon enough, only one man was left.

"Why are you here? What do you want?" Ratonhnhaké:ton asked him as he had him pinned to the ground.

"Best as the bossman." he said.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton!" Octavia yelled. By the time he turned around to see what she was calling him for, he was struck in the face with a plank of wood.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton!" she yelled out again, running to help. The man left pinned to the floor however, grabbed her as he stood up, pulling her into a choke hold. She struggled against him, kicking and screaming.

"You workin' for the old man, then. That it?" the man who hit the boy asked him.

Octavia felt a struggle before the man holding her went limp, slumping to the ground. She turned to see the old man who Ratonhnhaké:ton was trying to get to train him.

"Maybe this'll get ya talkin'." he spoke to the boy. Octavia watched as the old man quietly stood up against the man threatening Ratonhnhaké:ton, his body also going limp to the ground.

The old man helped Ratonhnhaké:ton get up from the ground.

"Thank you." the Native boy gave his gratitude.

"Si, thank you." Octavia joined, standing next to Ratonhnhaké:ton.

"Clean this up." the old man ordered the two, gesturing to the dead bodies scattered across the ground and began walking off, turning back to them, "Then, I suppose we should talk..." he finished.

The two nodded, Octavia giving the old man a soft smile before he began wobbling back to the manor.

"Help me, Octavia?" Ratonhnhaké:ton asked.

"Si, of course." she obliged, grabbing the other end of dead body.

* * *

"After you." Ratonhnhaké:ton stepped slightly aside for Octavia as he opened the door.

"Grazie." she thanked him, passing through. "It feels so comforting..." she complimented the manor upon seeing the inside. It had been a long time since she felt the warm atmosphere of a house, the lasts being her own manor.

"I believe it's this way." Ratonhnhaké:ton told her, gesturing to the room directly to the right. She followed him, seeing the old man sitting in front of a lit fire place. He nodded to Octavia and motioned to sit on a chair, only to have it collapse the moment he sat upon it.

Octavia snickered, but stopped upon receiving a glare from her friend.

Ratonhnhaké:ton stood up, eyes flickering back and forth before lowering his head slightly and apologized for the chair breaking.

"Not your fault," the old man brushed it off, "This whole place is ready to come down. God damn miracle it hasn't already." he explained, "Anyway, who are you?" he asked him.

"My name is Ratonhnhaké:ton." he answered simply.

"Right. Well, I'm not even going to try and pronounce _that_..." he admitted, turning to the girl, "And you, my dear. What might your name be? Something simpler, I hope." he gave a soft smile.

"I am Octavia Violette D'Egidio, signore." she answered, giving a nod in respect just as she was taught to upon meeting new people.

"A well-mannered young lady. Now, tell me why you two are here." the old man gestured to continuing their conversation.

Ratonhnhaké:ton pulled out a map, showing it to the old man, "I was told to seek this symbol. I found her alone along the journey here." he explained.

"Do you even know what that symbol represents? Or what it is you're asking for?" the old man asked.

"No." Ratonhnhaké:ton admitted.

"And yet here you are."

"The Spirit said that—that I've—"

"These 'Spirits' of yours have been harassing the Assassins for centuries. Every since Ezio uncorked the bottle...ah—but you don't even know what an _Assassin_ is, do you?" he asked Ratonhnhaké:ton.

"I have an idea of what they are." Octavia spoke up, catching the old man's attention, "I know of Ezio as well, Ezio Auditore da Firenze."

"And how do you know of him, my dear child?"

"My mother always told me stories of our ancestor; a great man who faught for the freedom of Italians. He had fought against the Borgia to stop their attempts in taking over the world."

"A predecessor of the great Italian Assassin. Imagine that." he said, looking back to Ratonhnhaké:ton, "Well, best you both settle in, then. I've got a story to tell...and it's gonna take a while to get it all out..."

* * *

"...and so this is why the Assassins have dedicated themselves to the pursuit of th Templars. Because if they succeed—your Spirit's visions will become reality."

Ratonhnhaké:ton stood up, "Then I will stop them." he said, confident as ever.

"Oh, I have no doubt you two will try." the old man said, standing up and putting his weight on to his cane, "Come on. I've something to show you two."

The two followed the old man out of the room. "Careful. Wasn't a joke when I said this place was coming apart." the old man commented to the creaks of the manor.

"Why don't you repair it?" Ratonhnhaké:ton suggested as they continued through the home.

"What the point? Besides, I don't have the materials for the job."

"So buy them." he told the old man, only to receive a chuckle from him.

"Look at me! You think I can just march into some store, purse full of pounds and go shopping?"

"Yes. Why not?" the Native boy innocently answered.

The old man gave out a small sigh, "So naive..." he said as he pulled down on a candle holder mounted to the wall. He pushed against the wall next to it and it opened some sort of secret passageway, "This way." he told them and they followed down the stairs.

"Magnifico..." Octavia gasped out.

"You're just fascinated by everything, aren't you?" Ratonhnhaké:ton glared at her.

"Be quiet." she sneered back.

"No fighting, you two." the old man said, "I feel like a father all of a sudden..."

The three walked down the stairs into some sort of area that Ratonhnhaké:ton nor Octavia could make any sense of. Their eyes fell on a sort of dummy dressed in what seemed to be robes. They walked up to it, examining and admiring the clothing. Ratonhnhaké:ton's eyes fell upon a box on the floor, leaning to pick it up, but was stopped by the old man's cane smacking his hand away. He stepped back, being startled by the cane.

"Don't think you can just come in here, throw those on and call yourself an Assassin." the old man informed him.

"I...did not...I would never presume—"

The man lifted his hand in a gesture for the boy to calm down, "It's alright. I know they've a certain...allure."

Octavia stood by Ratonhnhaké:ton's side, placing a hand on his shoulder in hopes to comfort him.

"Very well. I'll train you both." the old man agreed, "Then we'll know if you've the right to wear those robes..."

Ratonhnhaké:ton and Octavia smiled.

"Thank you...uh..." the boy spoke, but was halted by the fact that he didn't know the old man's name.

"Name's Achilles," the old man clarified.

"Grazie, signore Achilles." Octavia gave her gratitude, receiving a nod in return.

"Come on, then." he spoke up to the two, "We've work to do." he continued as he walked to a table. Using his came, he gestured to Ratonhnhaké:ton to lift up the board that was sitting on top of it, blocking something.

Octavia gasped and the two looked at her. She glanced at them and back at the portaits, saying nothing. She knew each and every one of the men painted in those portraits. Most notably, Master Haytham Kenway.

"What do the Templars want?" Ratonhnhaké:ton asked Achilles.

"What they've always wanted: Control. They see an opportunity in the colonies. A chance for new beginnings, unfettered by the chaos of the past. This is why they back the British. Here, they have a chance to illustrate the merits of their beliefs: A people in serve to the princeples of order and structure." Achilles explained.

"I have seen what is to come if they succeed." Ratonhnhaké:ton commented, "They have to die, don't they? All of them. Even my father."

"Che cosa? (What the?)" Octavia muttered.

"Especially your father. He's the one holding the whole thing together." Achilles agreed.

Octavia looked back up at his portait, "So...Master Kenway is your father, Ratonhnhaké:ton?" she asked the Native boy, which he nodded in confirmation. "Well, then. This should be fun..."


	4. Reasons

"No! You're swinging at her like a ninny. What's the matter with you, boy?!" Achilles scolded Ratonhnhaké:ton.

"She's a girl!" he defended, arm gesturing to said Octavia with her hand on her hip as she giggled.

"And what is your point?" their Mentor asked him.

"I cannot hit her." he said, looking to see her sticking her tongue out, taunting him.

"Do you think she will spare you the same because you're being soft on her?"

"No..." he scowled in her direction.

"Well?" Achilles asked, walking behind him, "You need to know each other's strengths and weaknesses. You need to know how to counter each other's attacks. You need to know how to support each other's attacks as well—what you each can do to cause a devastating strike on the enemy together. You may be sparring now, but you two must be in unison when it comes to _actually_ confronting your enemies. You need to know what to do next when the other makes a move. You need to know how to defend each other against your enemies." he lectured them, "Ah...but you will become better at this over time." he finished, looking at the two who nodded in agreement. He turned to face the manor, "You two go and train in the woods, concentrate on sharpening other aspects of your training like climbing and balancing." he coached, beginning to wobble off.

"Sì, signore." Octavia complied.

"And _don't_ come back until the sun begins to set." he ordered. "Lord knows I need a break from their bickering..." he spoke to nobody in particular.

"Come on, Ratonhnhaké:ton." she spoke to her partner, gesturing with her hand for him to follow as she began walking off without him. He began walking in the direction she chose, "You know, you should not be afraid of trying to hit me." she informed him.

"I'm not going to hit a silly girl." he said, headstrong in not truly sparring with her.

"I have told you to stop calling me that countless times, yet you do not heed my words. Besides, you should not be calling me a 'silly girl' when it is you who fights like one." she stated with a smirk forming across her lips.

"What?" he asked, offense clear in his tone.

"You heard me." she answered back in a rather taunting tone.

He stayed silent, watching the back of her head as he began running up to her. By the time Octavia had turned around to face him, she was tackled to the ground. They rolled for second before she got to her feet, taking a defensive position. He followed suit.

"Take it back!" he demanded.

"Make me." she smiled.

He charged at her, legs lifting off to tackle her once more, but she dodged him quickly and he fell to the ground. He rolled onto his back to see her walking up to him.

She bent down slightly with her hand extended to aid him to his feet, "Since I've won, will you stop calling me a silly girl?" she asked of him.

He took her hand, but used his own weight to pick himself up, "We will see." he stated simply, brushing the grass off of his clothing.

She giggled, nodding in agreement as she looked out into the woods before looking back to him, "Race you!" she exclaimed, taking off suddenly. He quickly put his legs to work.

* * *

_**A couple hours later...** _

Achilles looked up from his book upon hearing the front door opening followed by laughter. He got to his feet and walked over to greet them, "How did your training go?" he asked.

"It was well." "Fine." the two answered simultaneously while trying to control their giggling.

"You couldn't make it more obvious that you two were playing rather than training." Achilles caught on to them easily, tripping Octavia with the handle of his cane and then bonking Ratonhnhaké:ton on the head with it.

The young girl stood up while her partner rubbed his head. They didn't dare move while Achilles was still in front of them.

"Go wash up. Supper will be ready soon." the old man ordered them, watching as they immediately stumbled up the stairs to do as told.

"I'm too old to be a father of two young idiots..." he said under head breath as he wobbled back to his study.

"This is your fault." Ratonhnhaké:ton glowered, feeling his head for any swelling as she walked into his room after washing up.

"How is this my fault?" Octavia asked, an eyebrow quirked in curiosity at him blaming her, "You took part as well." she reminded him.

He gritted his teeth, "Because you taunted me and that is how it all started." he stated in defense.

"You didn't have to act upon you tackling me." she smirked, receiving a glare in return before leaving the room. She returned to his room with a damp washcloth and approached him, holding the back of his head with one hand and began patting his head with the cool washcloth.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm easing the bruise, hopefully to prevent swelling. I'm not very good with these sort of things." she admitted.

"You don't have to do that." he said, raising an arm to push her hand away.

She smacked his hand away, "No, but I want to." she stated, replacing her hand on the back of his head more sternly and continued to aid him, "My teasing you caused us to become more playful rather than serious in our training, leading you to get smacked with il Mentore's (the Mentor's) cane." she explained, putting the washcloth down and played with his hair.

"He tripped you too." he reasoned, "W-what are you doing?"

"Mi dispiace (I'm sorry), your hair is just so beautiful. I looked so soft, but now I know that it really is."

He accepted her touching his hair, figuring that it must be a girl thing, "Can I feel your hair?" he asked her.

"Sì, of course." she obliged.

He ran is fingers through her long, light brown hair, "It feels like silk." he commented.

"I try to take care of it. My mamma always said to me, 'L'orgoglio di una signora è i suoi capelli." she said, the smile on her face quickly fading.

He stayed silent as he watched her fall into deep thought, "What does it mean?" he asked, trying to ease her mind of the hurt.

"It means that a lady's pride is in her hair." she explained.

"We should attend supper. Would you like a train after we eat?" he suggested.

"I would love to." she agreed, eyes beaming in anticipation.

The two ate the delicious supper of roasted chicken with vegetables in the company of Achilles and the two maids, Annabelle and Elizabeth. Afterward, they were called to the study to discuss the activities for the week to come. Their mentor made it clear that they would be tested at the end of every week not just for the lessons in Language, Philosophy, Logic or the Arts; but more importantly their fighting, climbing and learning how to fall and recover as well. Furthermore, they would be questioned on their knowledge of the Assassins and Templars: their structures, origins and purpose behind both factions. It was a lot to handle, but they were determined to right the wrong that the Templars had caused throughout the centuries. They knew that this wasn't a simple training to become initiated. They understood very well that this was the path they'd chosen, the battle they set themselves to face, for the rest of their lives.

Afterward, the two sparred in the basement, practicing their aiming, hitting and kicking; using the dummies as well as each other as the former couldn't counter their attacks or fight back. They continued until they were called by Achilles to wash up and head to bed, saying their 'good nights' and going their separate ways until sunrise.

* * *

Eventually, Ratonhnhaké:ton and Octavia were called in by Achilles separately, both questioned on _why_ they wanted to choose this path.

Ratonhnhaké:ton had told Achilles of Charles Lee burning down his village, Kanien'kehá:ka, when he was only five years old. He told his mentor about watching his mother saying 'goodbye' for the last time as he was carried off while she was left to burn alive.

He would never forgive his father for letting him destroy his own son's life'; for giving the order to have his mother killed by the hand of his own protégé and for what? What was the reason for his mother losing her life? What had she ever done to anybody to make her deserving of such a horrible death? These were the questions Ratonhnhaké:ton refused to let go of.

Octavia confided in Achilles that she'd witnessed her father, Emilio D'Egidio, beat her mother, Isabella, to death with his own bare hands in a drunken rage and thus met Ratonhnhaké:ton in the woods due to her running to save her own life.

She confessed to feeling like a horrible daughter for leaving her mother in the home in that state, but she truly didn't know what else she could have done. What use would have been if she stayed only to suffer the same as her mother? She expressed the guilt that she felt for confessing the secret to a close friend of hers, who in turn told her parents and the news spread until it hit her father's ears that fateful night. She admitted that the only reason she joined Ratonhnhaké:ton on his journey was because she had nothing left to lose. She knew now that she had so much more to gain.

Together, the two wanted to stop the Templars from tearing the country apart through their oppressing ways. To prevent any stranger from suffering by the hands of the Templars after both becoming very aware of the wrath those people could put on their own loved ones. They wouldn't stand for such injustice on a nation that was still in its infancy only to grow under such appalling circumstances if they didn't act upon terminating the Templar Order.

Achilles, however, made it clear that any personal grudges they had within them would most certainly have to be put aside for the sake of keeping composure if they were to eradicate the Templars in an effective manner. They would have to be trained to control their emotions and learn that some must die for the sake of everything becoming better for the nation and its people.

There was an unspoken understanding that Ratonhnhaké:ton and Octavia would always have personal issues and emotions tied to this long journey, for reasons not having to be addressed. Still, they would do their best to build themselves up into the fighters that the country needed most. They would become the defenders of those who cannot defend themselves. They would become Assassins.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just letting you all know, the difference between "Violette" and Violet for this OC is the pronunciation. Octavia's second name, Violette, is pronounced as [Vee-Oh-Let] whereas Violet is [Vye-Let]. However, when she goes under the name 'Violette', it is pronounced as Violet. Sorry if I confused you xD
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter, though! :)

_**A Few Months Later...** _

"Ratonhnhaké:ton!" Octavia called out to the boy from downstairs.

"Yes?" he answered.

"Achilles has taken out the carriage! I think he's going away."

He made his way downstairs quickly, stopping at the end in front of Octavia and they began walking out of the manor and into the cold that winter brought with it, "What is that?" he inquired about the papers she was holding.

She lifted it up to show him, "I was drawing something." she explained, checking if she had her necessary materials to complete it as they arrived to the carriage.

"Good morning." he said to the two.

"To you as well." "Buongiorno, Signore." they replied.

"You taking a trip?" Ratonhnhaké:ton asked Achilles, moving around in place.

"I've decided to do something about the house and you two are going to help me." he said, tapping his cane against the body of the carriage, "Get in."

Ratonhnhaké:ton opened the carriage door and Octavia got in.

"I did not open the door for you." he commented.

"Cosa? Why not? It is 'ladies first'."

The boy huffed, "You're no lady..." he grumbled, remembering all too well how unruly she can be during training sessions.

"Yes, I am!"

"No, you aren't!"

"How am—"

"Stop bickering and get in!" Achilles scolded them. "Can't believe they're Assassins in training..." he mumbled to himself so they couldn't hear him.

Ratonhnhaké:ton got into the carriage, closing the door and glaring at Octavia, who gave him the same look in response before retrieving her art materials, handing a couple pieces to her partner along with some paper. He took the paper and tools, looking at her work and then at his blank canvas.

"Sit next to me, I will show you the basics." she offered and he obliged.

"You start like this..."

* * *

_**Boston...** _

Ratonhnhaké:ton hopped out of the carriage, followed by Octavia after placing her papers as securely as possible within the carriage, pocketing the materials. He looked at the city in awe at the buildings lining the streets while she let out a deep sigh.

"It has been to long since I have been in Boston." she commented, a faint smile forming across her lips.

A lady pased by and Ratonhnhaké:ton followed her with his eyes, receiving a smack on the arm from Octavia.

"Don't stare." Achilles told him, smacking him lightly with his cane.

"Sorry..." Ratonhnhaké:ton said, looking down. Octavia felt bad for hitting him and placed a hand on his shoulder, receiving a brief glance.

"Come on." Achilles called them. They began walking just behind their Mentor, Ratonhnhaké:ton looking around at all the buildings.

"This place is incredible!" the Native boy chimed, "The people, the sounds and smells. I could walk these streets for days and know not even half its wonders." he continued. Octavia giggled, nodding her head in agreement.

"I thought the same as you upon a time. These days, I much prefer the quiet of the countryside." Achilles added.

"But there is so much life here. So many opportunities." Ratonhnhaké:ton suggested.

The old man frowned, "For a few, my boy. For a few..."

Octavia knew what Achilles was referring to. Her mother had told her of the oppression colonists left on those they deemed lower than themselves, whether it was their financial standing, or their skin colour. Mankind would always find a way to be cruel to their own.

"There's a store close to here. You're to buy the items on this list," he told them, handing the boy the piece of paper and gave Octavia the pouch of coins, "Tell them where the carriage is—and they'll see that it's loaded. Understood?" Achilles told them.

"Yes." "Sì." they confirmed.

"Good." he turned to Ratonhnhaké:ton, "You're also going to need a new name. Your skin is fair enough that you might pass for one with Spanish or Italian blood. Better to be a Spaniard than a Native, and both are still better than I." Achilles grimaced.

"That is not true." Ratonhnhaké:ton said.

"What's _true_ and what _is_ aren't always the same." Achilles elaborated.

Octavia placed a hand on Achilles' shoulder and he looked at her, "It will not always be this way, Mentore." she tried to reassure him, not knowing if there was truth to her words. Still, it was an encouragement nonetheless. He smiled in return.

"What would you call me, then?" the Native boy asked him, looking at Octavia for a moment as the old man took a moment to think, eyes studying him.

"Connor." Achilles spoke, "Yes, that will be your name." he decided, a sad smile appearing on his lips.

"I want a name too!" Octavia chimed.

"You already have one, child."

"But Ratonhnhaké:ton gets a new one, why can't I have a new one too?" she pouted.

"You aren't in the same position as 'Connor' here." he explained, receiving a pout from the young girl, "Fine." he sighed, "What's that other name of yours?"

"Violette?" she asked.

"I would pronounce it Violet, but yes. Connor and Violet." he finalized, giving a brief smile of approval.

"Alright then, off you go. I need a break from you two bickering in my ears." Achilles told them, pushing 'Connor' forward with his cane.

They proceeded to walk to the shop, Octavia looking back to see Achilles wobbling off with his cane. "So, this is your first time in the city, Connor?" she asked her partner, a smile forming on her lips. She liked his new name.

"Yes. Is it yours...Violette?" he asked in return, receiving a small giggle from hearing her new name.

"Oh, no! I came here with my mamma a couple times..." she said, looking to the ground, then around the city. Anything to stop her mind from replaying the horrid memories. They entered the shop, looking around.

"You two lost?" the man behind the counter asked.

Connor and approached him, taking the list Achilles handed to him out, "I need the items on this list." he explained, handing it to the man.

"Will you be paying with coin or trade?" he asked and Violette pulled the coin purse out, handing it to him.

"Some of these things I have, some I don't. Lumber's hard to come by since my supplier up and vanished. I have the tools and pitch, though. Nails too." he explained as the counted the coin, "Where do you want this delivered?" he asked.

"Our wagon is near the state house." Connor answered as Violette took back the remaining coin.

"Grazie. (Thank you)" she told the storekeeper, turning to follow Connor out of the shop.

"We should return to Achilles." Connor suggested. Violette agreed, leading the way to find the old man in the vast city.

"Something is going on." Violette said suddenly, stopping to listen to where the sound may be coming from.

"What is it?" Connor asked.

"I'm unsure." she told him, allowing Connor to lead the way this time. A man was being restrained against a wall by two men in red.

"Those are Redcoats." Violette explained, "They are under the order of the Crown."

"The Crown?" Connor asked curiously.

"They are British, from over the seas. From England." she elaborated as she walked behind her partner through the multiple groups of people running around.

"I see Achilles." she said, showing the direction loosely with her hand. Connor spotted him and they stepped next to the old man.

"What happened?" Connor asked.

"That's what we're going to find out," he explained, "Follow me." he ordered and they did as told, ensuring they didn't lose sight of their Mentor.

"I say again: disperse! Congregating in this manner is forbidden!" a Redcoat shouted out to the crowd of people.

"We're not going anywhere, bug!" a man amongst the crowd yelled out in rebellion.

"Oi! Why don't you go back to England?!" another exclaimed.

"No good can come of this chaos! Return to your homes and all will be forgiven!" the man in red negotiated.

"Never!" "Not until you've answered for your crimes!" two other men replied, starting many in the crowd to shout out in anger.

Achilles got Connor's attention, gaining Violette's attention as well, "There!" he said, pointing with his cane.

Connor and Violette saw the man. He stood upright, perfect posture with his hands behind his back. A tricorn hat placed on his head while a cape adorned his shoulders. He was talking to another man.

"Is that my father...?" Connor asked. If it was, it would be the first time he'd seen the man who helped make his existence possible.

"Yes, which means trouble is sure to follow." Achilles answered, "I need you to tail his accomplice."

"Master Kenway is always planning something." Violette added, remembering the meetings her father, the Grand Master and the rest of the Templars had occasionally at her home. She froze in place upon his eyes locking on to hers, a delighted smirk forming across his lips. "Merda..." she swore.

"What is it?" Connor asked.

"He saw me." she said, turning away and running to evade the Grand Master's sight.

"Leave her, she will find you when she can." Achilles told Connor before he had the chance to go after her, "Go on. This place is a powder keg—we can't allow him to light the fuse."

"But—"

"But nothing!" Achilles scolded the teenager, "Do as I say and go!" he ordered.

Connor tailed the man who spoke to his father, ensuring he stayed from the man's eyes. He wondered what Violette was doing, if she ran away from the entire situation, or if she was doing whatever task she could. She wasn't the type to run away, though, so he figured it would have been the latter. Whatever her plans were, he hoped she would be okay.

He followed the man up to a rooftop, then realizing that the plan all along was to 'light the fuse' as he pointed his musket out into the crowd. Quickly, he ran toward the man, pulling his tomahawk out and jammed it into the man's back. Holding him over the edge of the roof, he looked into the man's eyes, "Your plot has ended," he told him with confidence.

"Not quite..." the man said, craning his head to look over to the roof parallel to them.

Standing there was none other than Charles Lee, holding a pistol in his hand. He looked Connor dead in the eyes, pulling the trigger. A soldier ordered the others to open fire upon the unarmed crowd in response. Some fought back against the attack, many others ran, but one too many innocent lives were stolen from them in that moment.

Connor looked around, spotting his father not too far away from the soldiers firing at the civilians, walking toward a redcoat. He pointed a finger to Connor. What was he doing? Connor spotted Violette not too far away, running straight for his father whose back was turned to her. She lunged forward, grabbing his tricorn hat and continued running without missing a beat. The Grand Master began walking in the same direction she'd run off in.

_Why would she do such a thing?_

Worrying what Violette had planned and whether or not she could evade his father was not his only problem. Guards were making their way to capture him, or probably kill him. His legs carried him across the roof, jumping over to another and through tree branches, finally jumping down into a haystack. He stayed there, silent and still, steadying his breaths as he heard them nearby. He would have to stay there until they stopped looking for him.

_I need to find Achilles..._


	6. Turning The Tides

"Connor!" Violette called out to him as he climbed out of the haystack, "Are you alright?" she asked.

"Are you touched in the head?!" he scolded her.

She looked surprised at his outburst, unsure of what she'd even done to earn it, "What have I done to make you speak to me like this?" she asked, an eyebrow quirked to add to her annoyance.

"You grabbed my father's hat, you could have been badly injured, or worse!"

"I was trying to help you, Connor, that is all." she defended, crossing her arms and turning around so she wasn't looking at him.

"I'm sorry." he apologized, standing next to her, "Thank you for helping me." he gave his gratitude for sticking herself in direct danger for his sake.

"We're partners. That is what we're supposed to do." she explained, casting him a smile, "Now, we must find Achilles—"

"You there!" a guard yelled, pointing at the teenagers.

Connor grabbed her hand, running through the alleyways, hoping that the sharp turns would cause them to lose the guards on their tracks. But to no avail could they shake them off. They continued running, finally being met and halted by the docks.

"Connor—"

"There's no time!" he exclaimed, holding her tightly to him and jumping in.

Violette frantically clung on to Connor upon being submerged into the ice-cold water, her heart beating hard enough that she could feel it in her ears. He had a hold of her arm, and brought her up with him.

"Are you alright?" he asked her, moving the hair out of her face.

"I will ensure you regret that decision." she snarled at him, still holding on to him tightly as she trembled.

"I need you to take a deep breath, Violette." he ordered her gently, receiving a vigorous head shake in response. He held her hand tightly, giving it a light squeeze for some reassurance that he wouldn't let anything happen to her. "When under, just move your legs like you would to walk, alright?" he advised her and she frowned, but nodded in agreement.

They took a deep breath together, dipping below the waters surface and the moved her legs as told while Connor had a hold of her hand. He tugged on her arm, pulling her to come back up from the water and she inhaled a deep breath upon feeling the air against her face again, clinging on to the Native boy as she'd done before.

"Please, do not ever do this to me again." she begged him, shivering and nestling her head into his neck for some form of warmth and comfort.

He held on to her with one hand while anchoring them to the dock with the other, "I will teach you, but not like this." he suggested, moving them to see if they'd finally rid themselves of the guards.

"We will freeze to death." she finalized, wrapping her arms around him more tightly.

"They have left, we can leave the water now." he reassured her.

"We will still freeze to death." she spat, unwilling to move her aching joints as Connor pushed her up onto the docks surface, climbing out afterward and hastily walked with her to find some form of shelter from the cold.

"Hey, over here!" they heard a man called, turning to see that he was calling them over. They looked at each other as the man approached them, "You're Achilles' kids. Connor and Violette was it?" he said, raising his hand to his face, "I saw was happened at the Town House. A fine mess, that."

"Who are you?" Connor asked, glancing at Violette for a moment upon her gripping his clothing tighter.

"Samual Adams, at your service." he introduced himself, holding his hand out for the girl.

Violette reached out to shake his hand, but he kissed the back of it instead, an expression she was rather used to. He continued holding his hand out for Connor, but the Native boy did not return the action.

"You must excuse him, Signore. He is not used to these gestures." Violette saved him from appearing to be impolite.

"I understand," he said, retrieving his hand, "Achilles asked me to get you both out of Boston." he said.

"Explain." Connor told him, receiving a glare from Violette for being so rude.

"The whole city is looking for you..." he said, looking around with his hands out slightly, emphasizing on the severity of the situation as he looked over to a man standing next to a drawing of Connor posted onto a tree as he called out about a criminal wanted in connection to the incident that had occurred at the Town House, explaining that he was wanted dead or alive.

"What am I supposed to do?" Connor asked the man, unsure of how they could possibly stop their search.

Samuel walked over to the poster, pushing a drunk man out of the way, "You can take these posters down, for a start," he suggested, ripping it off of the tree trunk, tossing it aside, "Return to me once you've removed the others. We can't be seen together until these posters are gone..." he elaborated, turning to Violette, "Perhaps you would like to warm yourself up, you look terribly cold." he offered the young girl.

"Grazie, but I will stay with Connor." she declined, to which he nodded and walked away.

The two went their separate ways, taking town whatever posters were left of Connor and returned to Samuel once they had removed them all. They'd managed to even avoid any guards searching around the area for the Native boy.

"Ah, there you are." Samuel greeted them again, "Connor and Violette, I'd like you both to meet Cyrus." he introduced them to the man standing next to him.

"Is it...is _he_ the killer?" the man asked Samuel, seeming nervous.

Connor got defensive, getting ready to step up to Cyrus. Violette put her arm in front of him as a way to make him stand down.

"Peace. Cyrus is on our side. Or rather...for the right price, he will be."

Guards were now walking around with the posters, asking people if they'd seen the person who was featured on it. Connor hid his face so that he wouldn't be recognized and Violette tensed with arms ready to fight, but Samuel removed his hand and she brought herself to ease.

"Watch and learn," he told them, handing Cyrus a handful of coin.

Cyrus then took a few steps out, raising his hand to draw more attention to himself, "Oye! Oye! Word has reached us that the man responsible for today's shooting may have been in disguise!" he begun, many people walking closer to hear what he had to say, a guard even looking at the poster and then back to him in confusion, "A wig and make-up tin were found near the scene of the crime. Witnesses describe a middle-aged gentleman of pale complexion fleeing towards the wharves, rifle in arm." he finished, walking back to Samuel and the teenagers.

"Thank you kindly, Cyrus." Samuel gave his gratitude.

"Pleasure," the man replied.

"Come on, then." Samuel prompted the two, "There's still one last bit of work to do." he continued, walking off and they followed.

"Where are we going?" Connor asked.

"To the printer. Where do you think all those posters came from?" he asked, "They're made by a machine and we need to shut it down." he explained.

They walked in a rather casual manner toward the Printer Shop, still watching for guards.

"Damn it!" Samuel swore, "We're too late. They've already set up a checkpoint. Come on, this way." he ushered them to a new direction.

"We could go by rooftop and meet you there." Connor suggested.

"No," he disagreed, "It's better you two learn about the tunnels now."

"Tunnels?" Violette asked, intrigued by the mystery the word brought along with it.

"The masons have a whole network of them under the city. They're quite useful when sped and secrecy are required."

"I like the sound of this." Violette commented, continuing on with Samuel and Connor through alleyways to avoid guards until Samuel stopped before a wooden structure on the ground; the door to the tunnels.

Once inside, Samuel told them to wait while he lit a lantern, the walls surrounding them suddenly appearing. He gave the lantern to Connor, allowing him to explore the structures himself. Violette wrapped her arm around Connor to stay close to him.

He shook the arm that she held on to, but she wouldn't let go, "Must you do that?" he asked, slightly irritated by the girl holding on to him.

"It's more unnerving than I thought it would have been." she explained herself.

He made no effort to shake her off any further, succumbing to her need for security. They began wandering around while Samuel stayed behind them closely. They were unsure as to which way they should go and further every direction was consumed by the darkness. Samuel suggested they light the lamps adorning the tunnel walls should they have to turn around, which neither of the teenagers had noticed before it was mentioned.

"I wonder why they built these tunnels." Connor told Violette as he lit the lamps they came across.

"I do not know, but I'm grateful for them." she replied, considering that there were so many guards out looking for her companion.

Suddenly, they made it to a sort of junction, unsure of which route to take to get to their destination.

"Excellent. Let us move on." Samuel said in a satisfied tone. He was laying back, letting the two figure it out on their own and as much as they may have wanted to become irritated with him for it, they wouldn't have learnt so much today if it wasn't for him.

"Perhaps we can go this way, Connor." Violette suggested, pointing to the entrance to the left of them.

"No, I think we should go this way." He said, point to the entrance going straight.

"Why do we have to take your way?" she whined.

"How do you know your way is right?" he asked.

"Well how do you know _your_ way is the right way?" she came back.

"Come on now," Samuel interrupted their argument.

"Fine." Connor snarled, yanking the poor girl to the direction she chose, it seemed that there was a wall with only two options, "Look what you have caused." the Native boy accused her.

"I didn't know it would be like this!" she defended herself.

"Uh...much as it pains me to say it, we must follow the rats," Samuel cut in, "They often move in the direction of an exit."

"Rats are filthy and vile creatures," Violette grimaced, not wanting to be anywhere near the creatures, "Besides, I think this is the way." she said, pointing to her right.

"You just do not wish to be near the rats." Connor teased her, still following her direction.

"They are diseased!" she defended again, only getting a chuckle from both of them in return.

"Well, well!" Samuel spoke up upon them reaching a door, "You two were right. I apologize for ever doubting." he said, giving Connor a light pat on the shoulder, "No wonder Achilles has taken such an interest in the both of you." he added, jiggling the door handle, "Arse!" he cursed, looking at the teengers, "I don't suppose lock-picking is part of your repertoire?" he asked them.

Connor looked at Violette, her lips forming a smirk as she proceeded ahead, kneeling down with the tools in hand.

"I must say, I was expecting you to be the lock-picker, Connor." Samuel commented.

"I can as well, but she gets the job done faster than I." he explained.

"Did you just admit that I am better than you in something, Connor?" Violette asked, the tone in her voice a playfully surprised one.

"Only for now." he added as she stood up.

"Well done!" Samuel complimented her, "The printer isn't far. Let us reconvene there." he suggested.

The two exited, taking their own route to walk and look around the area while making their way to the printer. Samuel was already in there, conversing with the shopkeeper.

"You ask a great deal of me, Sam." the man said with a frown.

Samuel's gaze shifted before returning to the printer, "I know...but I wouldn't be here it it wasn't important. If it wasn't _vital_." he explained.

The man sighed, "Fine. Just this once, though. In the future, such things will come at a price. Resetting the type is neither quick nor easy. To say nothing of the cost should I be discovered." he complained.

"I shall not forget this kindness." Samuel thanked him.

"Nor I." the man spat back.

Samuel turned to the two, who were standing back and trying to see what the printer was doing. "His work wil see your last little bit of notoriety is erased." he explained, "Come, I'll show you two how to leave now that order's been restored." he said, gesturing them to follow him out of the shop. "So now you've had a chance to see how it all works. Untoward actions will upset the citizens and inevitably lead to the guards being called," he continued speaking as they walked, "Depending on the severity of your transgression, they may simply seach for a while before giving up and returning to their post. But should you offend them severely or repeatedly—they'll become much more aggressive in their pursuits."

They rounded the corner and ships could be seen in the short distance, "I've shown you both three ways to turn the tide: remove wanted posters, bribe town criers or visit a printer to create your own propaganda." Samuel continued speaking.

"This feels wrong. Why not just speak to someone and explain my innocence?" Connor asked.

"You can't be serious?" Samuel asked in disbelief.

"We counter one lie with another. Words on paper taken instantly as truth, and all of it without question."

" _They_ loosed this beast—or have you forgotten?" Samuel reminded him, "I merely helped you tame and turn it 'round."

"There must be another way. Something more honest." Connor suggested.

"Well when you find it, do let me know. But until then, we cult with the clay we have." Samuel spat.

Violette kept her mouth shut about his tone of voice so as to not offend the man any further than her friend already had.

"My apologies," Connor atoned, "I do not mean to sound ungrateful."

"Quite alright," Samuel dismissed it, "I was much the same at your age. You'll grow out of it..." he stated as they approached the docks, "Here we are. Speak with the harbourmaster and he'll see you home." Samuel informed them.

"Thank you for everything, Sam." Connor showed his appreciation.

"We promise one day to repay this favour." Violette finally spoke.

The man nodded, "Oh, I'm counting on it." he told them with a subtle smile.

Unexpectedly, Connor held his hand out, "Like this?" he asked Samuel. Samuel smiled and took hold of his hand, giving a firm shake.

Violette smiled, placing her hand on Connor's shoulder, "We should be going." she told Samuel, "Take care, Signore." she said goodbye while her companion gave a nod before walking off.

"I knew you didn't know how to shake hands." she said, poking Connor in his side.

"Be quiet." Connor advised her, to which she only giggled.


	7. Homestead Is Where The Heart is

_**Davenport Homestead...** _

Upon entering the manor, Connor hastily stomped to the back door, turning to move into the dining room.

"Welcome back!" Violette heard Achilles greet Connor and she rushed over immediately as he approached the old man.

"You left us in Boston!" the young Native sneered.

"Connor..." Violette tried to keep her partner calm. She wasn't pleased with what Achilles had done either, but she knew that their mentor had only the best intentions for them and he wouldn't do such a thing if he thought them incapable of helping themselves.

"The training we've done here is all well and good, but experience is a better teacher by far." Achilles explained his decision.

"What of my father?" Connor asked the old man, agitation still distinct in his tone.

"Into the wind, I'm afraid." the old man frowned at the thought.

"We have to find him!" the boy demanded.

"And we will." the old man agreed, " _After_ the house has been repaired."

"But he's out there plotting who knows what!" Connor informed their mentor, his hand lifting to point in no particular direction for emphasis.

"And what would you do when you found him? _If_ you found him?" Achilles asked the teen, "You're a boy with a few months of training. He's a man, full grown, who's spent decades honing his skills."

"Il Mentore (the Mentor) is right, Connor. Be reasonable, per favore (please)." Violette tried to get through to him once more, stepping forward to grab hold on his shoulder this time.

He glanced at her and stayed silent, but she could feel his muscles relax and that was good enough for her to be at ease as well.

"If you're going to stand a chance against the Templars," Achilles spoke up, moving to grab one of the polished boxes from the covered dining table, "You're going to need these." he finished, picking the box up and offering it to Connor.

Connor stopped his pacing, taking the box decorated with the Insignia of the Assassins on the top of it with a frown still upon his lips.

Achilles picked the other box up, calling the young girl over and she took it with a nod of gratitude. Looking to her friend, they both opened the boxes to see a pair of gauntlets sitting within.

Simultaneously looking to their Mentor with wide smiles on their faces, he couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of them, "Go on, before I change my mind."

They put their gauntlets on either side of their forearms, showing them to their Mentor when done, who gave a nod of approval in return. Violette twisted her wrist about to break the new material in, being met with a blade popping out of place upon her wrist being flicked back.

"Magnifico..." she mumbled at the beautiful weapon.

" _Hey_!" the three heard, Violette being startled by the banging on the window, " _Help_!"

Connor and Violette stepped outside, the man banging on the window stopping and running up to them, "You, Sir, please! Help! He's going to die!" he exclaimed anxiously, running off.

The two looked at each other before they followed suit until the man stopped at the riverside, "Down there!" he showed them, pointing out to a man clinging on to a long desperately, "He's just passed under the bridge!"

Connor took route through a series of trees and branches, using rocks in the river to aid him in catching up to the drifting man while Violette ran alongside the river, being halted by a wolf that suddenly lunged at her. It took all the strength it had in her to keep the beast's teeth from her neck while she utilized her new weapon, thrusting it into the side of the animal's neck; a whimper escaping as it took its last breath.

"There is a waterfall at the end of this river, Connor!" she reminded him, seeing him pick up pace and doing the same. He'd finally caught a point where he could jump in and save the man and did so, swimming him to the safely of the land where the two were met and aided by his counterpart.

The man lied on the cold ground, coughing and spitting up water as the man who asked of their help finally approached them, bending over to catch his own breath.

"What this knob-end is trying to say is: he's forever in your debt, Sir." he spoke to Connor, helping the Native to his feet.

Connor was met with Violette's arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around her, returning the gesture.

"Who you callin' a knob-end?" the rescued man said as he continued to regain his bearings.

"You." the other explained, leaning over him, "Because you are one." he finished, smacking him on the arm lightly before grabbing it to help his friend up.

"What were you doing on those logs?" Violette asked the man as he was being helped up.

"One of the dangers of lumberin'." he started, "We've got the camp set up a few roads off of here, as we're cuttin' timber. We're hoping to open a mill in the area." he explained.

"There is a good place not far from the manor on the hill where we are staying." Connor offered.

Violette looked at him, wondering if it was a good idea for her partner to just offer them such a thing without speaking to their Mentor first.

"Ha!" the man gave out a brief chuckle, "I like you already." he told Connor, giving him a light smack on the arm, "We'll have a look."

* * *

Connor and Violette proceeded to return to the manor, convincing Achilles to come with them to meet the two men, Godfrey and Terry along with their wives, to speak of them setting up a sawmill on the Homestead. Reluctantly, the old man agreed, commenting that he would miss the peace and quiet, but having the lumber to their disposal was certainly a benefit of having a mill so close by. Violette reminded their Mentor that the manor was in dire need of repairs and wood was a huge part of it. It was then that Achilles asked them to meet him by a small shack by the shoreline of the lake behind the manor, stating that there was something they needed to see. When they asked what it was, the only thing the old man told them was that it was an asset before wobbling his way back to the comforts of him home.

Connor turned to Violette, "We should train." he suggested, "Perhaps archery."

She nodded her head in agreement, "Would you like to make a small game out of it?" she smiled mischievously.

"Every time you say that and I accept your offer, we get scolded or worse." he informed her, hesitant to even listen to her idea.

"Mia amico (my friend), what could possibly go wrong?"

Perhaps setting the targets to face the manor was not the greatest of ideas. Indeed, they did get punished when one rogue arrow went right through the kitchen window, shattering one of the center panes and almost killing one of the maids, Annabelle. Achilles was furious that they would put their own friends' lives at risk and ordered them to clean the training room, stating that he didn't want to see 'a single speck of dust'. Fortunately, he was not the type of man to let his children starve, but it was off to bed immediately after supper. Their meeting by the old shack would have to wait until the following day.

Connor was prompted to wake Violette up during the course of the night, being woken up by her screams and cries. She often had the recurring nightmare of the night her mother died and was always woken up by Connor cradling her, reassuring her that she was safe in his arms, promising that she would never be hurt by anyone again.

* * *

As Connor and Violette were making their way to the shack Achilles requested them by, Violette decided to wander off in another direction, not caring to be near water. Connor made his way over to the shack on his own, not caring to fall into any more punishment by Achilles for his partner's sake.

Passing by a man who appeared out of sorts and babbling on about some sacred treasure, Connor approached his mentor without a word of Violette's whereabouts—though Achilles wasn't very surprised. That girl seemed to be more trouble than she was worth at times, but she was genuine about following the path of her ancestor; which was much better than following the path that her father had taken.

Achilles gestured for his student to knock on the door of the shack, the young Native doing just that and promptly being told to 'go 'way' in return. He turned to his Mentor, who urged him to go inside.

Opening the door, he was greeted by the bearded man within, "Said 'go 'way', boy. O'ya not speak the King's English?"

Violette wouldn't have liked him. He reeked of alcohol and lived on the shore of a lake, and seemed unkempt. Connor covered his nose for a few seconds from the stench of him, furrowing his brows and staying away from him as much as possible.

Connor stepped in, moving to the side so that Achilles could come in as well.

"Oh, I didn't see you there, old man. I'd of set my home in order if I'd known you'd be callin'."

"The boy's name is Connor," Achilles began, "and there's a girl named Violette—but she has some business to attend to. They're here to restore the property."

"Restore?" the man repeated, his expression going from one of confusion to realization, "Restore!" he said again, motioning to get up, if he even could, "Pardon my manners!" He stood up, walking outside and stretching out his arm across the lake to a half-sunken ship, "She's still the fastest in the Atlantic. Sure, she needs some attention...minor things, mostly, but with a little affection, she'll fly again." he said with his sudden burst of enthusiasm.

"Who is 'she'?" Connor asked the man, who immediately turned to him.

" _Who_ is _she?_ Why, the Aquila, boy!" he explained, looking out once more, "The Ghost of the North Seas!"

"The boat." Connor stated.

"B-B...a _boat?!_ She's a _ship,_ boy, and make no mistake about it!" the man said, moving closer to Connor, who immediately backed away with his hand to his nose once more. He turned to Achilles, "I thought you brought him here to restore order! I reckon he's the greenest thing on the frontier!" he gave his opinion of the Native to his associate.

Achilles tilted his lowered head in his student's direction—a gesture both of them were used to long ago, "Connor, meet me back at the manor when you're finished here." he ordered, turning to make his way back, "And find that girl before she gets into more trouble."

The young Native pointed out to the ship, eyes adverting to the old man, "You said it requires repairs. You able?" he asked.

" _She_ does need work—a ship is a _she,_ boy" the man voiced once more, tapping his finger on the boy's chest, "and yes, I can refit her, but I'm lacking in the proper supplies. Some...some quality timber would help me get started." he informed the teen.

"I can see to that. How long before it— _she—_ is able to sail again?" Connor asked.

The man turned to him as he corrected himself, leaning against the shack, "Just get me the lumber, boy," he said, suddenly sliding down to the floor, "and I'll raise a crew..." he finished, his burst of energy dissipated.

"Now to find Violette..."

* * *

She wasn't expecting anybody to be up on this hill when she began her hike to the top, but there was a group of five men. She crouched within the bushes, observing them. What were they up to?

There was a struggle with one man against a couple others and suddenly, he was pushed over the edge. He was attached to a rope wrapped around his feet and his scream didn't carry on to the bottom, but it ceased shortly after. Perhaps he'd hit his head against the rocks and fell unconscious.

Violette wasted no time in saving the man if she was able to. She ran up behind one of the men, ejecting her hidden blade and driving it into his spine and pushing him over, bending down to plummet the blade into the back of his neck. The other men reacted with brief shock before drawing their own weapons and taking their stance to fight against her.

She moved to attack the next man, but was met with the back of his hand across her face while the other men shouted about the 'dirty things' they'd do to her after this. The man moved to make his attack after stunning her, but she maneuvered under the swing of his axe, grabbing another man's leg and pulling him off of his feet, slitting his throat with her blade.

Standing up and now standing opposed to the other two men, she continued moving sideways while they watched her, buying her time to sheath her hidden blade and pull out her sword; prompting the axeman to make a move. She once again rolled out of his line of attack, only to have the last gunman hold her down with his rifle.

The axeman approached, readying his weapon to make a forceful attack on her. Her heart was racing. She'd never been in a position like this, but this was no time to idly think of what she could do, only to act. With that, she unsheathed her hidden blade, driving it into his thigh. The man cried out in agony only to be silenced quickly by his own ally's axe, the power behind the swing too much for the man to stop his own weapon.

The man stood in shock for a moment and that was his mistake. Violette drove her sword through his chest, pulling it out only to slice him across the chest a couple more times before slicing his throat and driving her hidden blade into the side of his neck, standing still as he fell over with his last breath.

She wiped her brow, chest heaving in adrenaline and a hint of excitement that she'd managed to take down a small group of bad-doers on her own.

"Violette?!" her name drawing her attention to see her partner, his expression being one of surprise.

"Connor! Help me pull this man up." she requested, leaning by the edge of the cliff.

He looked over to see the man, who was now awake, screaming for help, "How did he end up like this?" he asked as he took hold of the rope, her following suit.

"The men I fought had thrown him over." she explained as Connor grabbed his legs, pulling him back onto the ground.

The man held on to the edge of the cliff, giving his thanks to whoever saved his life.

"Are you alright, signore?" Violette asked, kneeling by his side.

"I think so," he said as he lifted himself up a bit, "Didn't do much to me aside from a good scare. Blaggards."

"What did they want with you?" Connor asked the man.

"My purse, which was meager and they decided they'd punish me for their trouble." he explained as he turned himself around. Connor worked to untie the knots around his feet, "Silly really, my tools and equipment _were_ worth a king's share to the right man." he continued, giving Connor a pat on his shoulder after both of them stood up, "In any case, I best get on my way. It's a long walk to the nearest inn. I thank you both, again, for your kindness." he gave his gratitude once more, shaking Connor's hand and holding Violette's for a couple seconds.

"Have you no home, signore?" she asked the man.

"Ah, well," he began with a chuckle, "I was a proud resident of Boston until recently, but I'm not a supporter of his majesty and, well, I was forced out of my wood shop and home by Loyalists." he answered.

"There are plenty around here who could use the services of a skilled craftsman, if you were looking for somewhere to settle." Connor offered the man.

"Is that right?" the man asked with a smile, "I might look into that." he accepted the offer.

"We will show you the way, signore." Violette offered and they began walking out to the homestead, "Achilles will have your head for turning his peace and quiet into a village." she whispered to Connor, a small chuckle erupting from her throat.

"We're getting a ship." he stated in response, ceasing her entertainment of him being in trouble instantly.


	8. Hide In Plain Sight

_**Six Months Later...** _

Connor and Achilles—after much negotiating and pleading—had managed to get Violette to learn how to swim and therefore, she was able to help with the restoration of the Aquila, though she often avoided looking into the water while aboard the ship. She herself wasn't sure as to why the deep waters frightened her so much even though she knew how to keep herself alive, but she would get over such trivial matters in time.

Whatever time the two hadn't spent on rebuilding the ship was spent studying, training and working. Achilles was glad to keep them occupied rather than lounging around the manor or constantly bickering in his ears.

Violette tended to indulge herself in artwork and learning about the Assassin of the Renaissance Era and her ancestor, Ezio Auditore da Firenze. She read anything that she could get her hands on pertaining to the Italian Assassin and it was through these readings that she learnt of _Minerva_ , a woman who called herself one of 'The Ones Who Came Before'. Violette gathered that she was one of the Spirits that even Connor was speaking of and the very Spirit Achilles was referring to.

Connor spent his free time learning more about the Templars: about Charles Lee and his father, Haytham. Patience and self-restraint seemed to be the hardest skills to accomplish, Violette often having to talk him out of wanting to confront his father and the others as soon as possible.

At the end of the day, they spoke of what they'd learnt in their studies with Achilles over dinner, updating their Mentor in their skills and what they felt that they'd become closer to mastering, as the old man's rules pertained of.

Violette was very curious about the 'phantom' known as 'Desmond' that Minerva spoke of to Ezio, Connor often telling her to be quiet about the topic, only to be told to be silent about wanting to go against their Mentor's wishes and attack the Templars.

Finally, all of the hard work that Violette, Connor, Mr. Faulkner and the rest of the hired crew had put into the project of restoring the Aquila back to her former glory had come to an end. The Aquila was once again ready to sail the seas.

"Come aboard and feast your eyes, kids!" Faulkner told the two.

Violette ran ahead of Connor and explored the ships deck, fascinated by the job well done by everyone. She had the honour of designing the Aquila's new colours and was very pleased with the results in the end, "Mio Dio! (My God!) She is magnifico!" she blurted out.

Connor began to make his way to board the ship after taking the time to mumble something about Violette being so childish, being stopped by Faulkner.

"No, no, no, no, not the left foot!" the drunken man exclaimed, "Never the left foot. Horrible luck. Step with your right foot first." he explained to the young Native.

Connor did as told and boarded the ship, inspecting her, "She is...solid." he said.

"Aye. Weatherly and sleek. She'll fetch twelve knots in a stiff gale, ne'er a ship from here to Singapore that can outrun her on her best day!" Faulkner said in a rather thrilled tone. He turned to Connor, "Wha'dya say we take her out and show you what she can do first hand?" he offered.

"Connor will empty his stomach." Violette said, giggling.

"Be quiet, I will not." he protested.

"You have never been on a ship before, Connor. You don't know what it's like when she's rocking back and forth, or the weightlessness she truly carries while sailing over the ocean." she taunted him, moving around as if the ship was rocking around already.

"Stop it!"

"I didn't do anything!"

"Both of you, stop it!" Faulkner cut in, silencing the two young teenagers, Violette walking off.

"Where would we go?" Connor asked the man.

"As it happens, she still needs guns and the officers to command them. We'll launch straight away." Faulkner said, "Don't worry, lad. I'll make sure you sprout good sea legs." he spoke, seeing that the boy was probably considering what Violette had said about feeling sick while sailing.

"Where are we going?" Violette asked her counterpart.

"Faulkner and I are going to get guns for the ship. You're going home." he told her, earning a frown from the girl.

She furrowed her eyebrows, unhappy with what she was hearing, "Why must I return home?"

"You will not come with us." Connor informed her.

"Why not?" she asked through her pouting.

"It is too dangerous." he stated simply.

"Please, Connor, let me come! We've worked so hard on this! I deserve a chance to see and feel the Aquila sail just as much as you do!" she begged him.

He looked into her eyes. She really did want to join them, despite still being afraid of the water after learning how to swim.

"Just this once." he granted her permission.

Her pout turned into a wide grin before it died down into a smirk, "You do not control what I do, anyway." she spoke softly before making her way to the wheel of the ship.

Connor looked in her direction, unsure as to how he should respond to her remark as he made his way over. Of course he did, he was older than her. Not but very much, but he was still responsible for her safety.

"Haul in the mainsail! Get up the rigging! Hand over fist! Come on, men! Let's get her out where she needs to be!" Faulkner ordered the crew, the men getting to work immediately.

Violette grabbed Connor's hand, leading him toward the bow of the ship to watch their departure from the harbour.

"If you feel sick, lean over the rails and empty your stomach." she informed her friend.

"I won't get sick." the teen said through gritted teeth, already feeling so but not wanting to admit it.

* * *

Connor emerged from the lower deck of the ship, walking up to Faulkner and Violette, who was at the helm. She stepped aside for Connor to take hold.

"Come on, boy! No time like the present." Faulkner urged the teen to take hold of wheel, to which he did hesitantly, "Come on, come on! She won't bite." the man reassured him, giving him a pat on the back. He looked over and watched Violette as she stood by the railing, looking out into the water.

"If you fall in, I won't stop for you." Connor told her, to which she turned around and stuck her tongue out at him before returning her sights to the coast.

"That ain't the way to treat a lady, boy. You 'ought to be a gentleman, put the lass before ya' own needs."

"She's just a silly girl." Connor told Faulkner, confident in his reply.

"Perhaps you see her as such now, but she'll be a fine woman one day and you'll think otherwise."

"I doubt it." he smirked, not being able to see her as anything but the 'silly girl' he knew her to be.

"Give it time, my boy." he told the teen. Faulkner stayed silent for a few more seconds before patting the railing behind the wheel, "You're connected to her now. Listen and feel. She's idle. If you call for half sail, the men'll hop to it and she'll pick up." Faulkner advised Connor.

"Half sail!" Connor yelled out. The crew did as told and the sail was lowered as commanded, the wind catching in and the ship began to move across the water.

Faulkner cheered, "The Aquila flies again! D'ya feel it, lad?!" he asked with great enthusiasm in his voice.

Connor nodded with a smile. He was enjoying this more than he expected to, wondering why that was. Perhaps it was because this was all new to him.

"Are you enjoying sailing the Aquila, Connor?" Violette asked once standing by his side. He looked to her to see a soft smile on her face, unable to stop himself from smiling in return.

"I am." he answered, the smile growing more.

"So Achilles was right, then." she spoke, looking out into the water.

Connor looked at her for a moment, "What do you mean?"

"Perhaps you should ask him when we return." Violette told him, not wanting to take the story away from their Mentor.

Connor's eyes widened as he looked at Violette, no words being needed as she too realized that they didn't tell Achilles that they were sailing out.

"Do you think we will get scolded upon our return?" she asked her counterpart.

"We'll have to wait and find out, I suppose." he replied, not wanting to think of it at this moment. He wanted to enjoy what he was doing and so he didn't continue that conversation.

"Set a course for Martha's Vineyard. We'll find our guns and officers there." Faulkner told Connor. He went on about the ship, explaining certain perks and problems that would be encountered while captaining a ship such as rogue winds and the like; also giving some advice on steering.

Upon Faulkner's offer, Connor called for full sail and the Aquila picked up in speed almost immediately, thanks to the crew's ability to do as told with ease.

They came upon a narrow path of huge rocks and Connor carefully maneuvered through them, calling for half sail to control the ship better.

The crew began to sing their shanties and Violette joined in a couple times, her singing voice soft and sweet. Connor listened, surprised that she was actually singing in front of him for once. Usually when he caught her singing, she'd stop immediately and deny it. Perhaps she thought she couldn't be heard, but he knew her singing well enough to single it out amongst the rest of the crew.

Connor eased the ship into the harbour for Martha's Vineyard and the anchor was dropped upon Faulkner's command.

* * *

Once docked, Faulkner, Connor and Violette made their way into the Vineyard tavern, the two teens following behind the man.

"Oh, hullo, Miss Mandy. You're looking every bit as ravishing as I remember." Faulkner said to a woman upon entering.

Connor and Violette looked at each other and then back at the two.

The woman grunted and turned toward Faulkner, "After all these years, you sail all the way to the Vineyard to pay me compliments?" she asked with doubt in her voice.

"We're looking for David and Richard Clutterbuck." Faulkner explained, receiving a 'hmph' in return.

"Nice to see you, too." Miss Mandy replied.

"She's feisty," Violette whispered to Connor, "I like her."

"Of course you do, silly girl." her friend replied.

Faulkner made his way to a table and the two followed him.

"Robert Faulkner." a bald headed man spoke out, "Where the hell you been?"

The man had many scars on his face and he seemed rather dangerous. Violette wasn't sure if she wanted to be stuck on a ship with a man like that. In her thought process, she subconsciously grabbed on to Connor's sleeve and he shook her off, bringing her back to reality.

"Sorry for leavin' like I did lads, but where I was going...no one could know." Faulkner replied, taking a seat, "You two working much?"

"Nah...between contracts at the moment." the other man answered.

"Well, we're lookin' for gunnery officers. What would you two say to workin' with me again?" Faulkner offered.

The bearded man gave an entertained smile, "We'd be for gettin' into a few more scraps." he took Faulkner up on his offer, no argument coming from the bald man.

"Good show!" Faulkner said with a smile, "The Aquila is a fine vessel. We're fitting all the guns as we speak..."

Connor shook Violette off again as she grabbed on to him once more, "Stop that!" he hissed quietly, "You're such a girl, don't let it show." he advised her, but upon turning to look at the teenager, he'd recognized a couple of people. The gleam of hatred in his eyes didn't escape Violette and she also turned around to see people that she could identify as well.

"Connor, no." she tried to stop her partner, but he made his way over to the table. She turned to look at Faulkner before looking back at Connor, walking toward the teen.

"Looks like your friend's about to catch a beatin'." the bald man informed Faulkner.

"Where is Charles Lee?" Connor demanded from the men.

Violette was taken back by how bluntly Connor had just said it. This was not the way that they were being taught to handle the Templars.

"I don't much care for your tone, boy." one of the Templars, Benjamin Church, warned Connor.

Another of the men, Nicholas Biddle, stood up, towering over Violette as she had been standing right in front of him without realizing it. She took a step back as she looked up, causing him to smirk at her, his eyes wandering up and down her figure. Connor stood in place, stubborn as ever.

"Hey...you don't want to be doin' that, Biddle." Faulkner intervened.

"Bobby Faulkner turned to wet-nursing? Good you finally realized you're _shite_ sailor."

"Bastardo." Violette spoke out.

Biddle quirked his eyebrow, quite interested in her attitude and Connor stiffened, not liking the way he was watching the young girl.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Miss Mandy cut in between the two men, "Not in here, gentlemen. Better still, not at all. Bobby, take your friends and get out!" she told Faulkner.

"Let's go. Our guns ought to be ready. Come on." he told them.

Violette apologized to Miss Mandy for the trouble her friend caused, receiving a soft smile and nod from the woman. As she was walking out, she glanced at Biddle, who winked at her before getting a cold, hard stare from the barmaid and backed off, returning to his seat. That gesture sent a chill down her spine and she felt as if she couldn't get out of there fast enough.

* * *

"What is the matter with you?!" Connor yelled at Violette.

" _Don't._ " she warned the teen.

"Don't? I could have handled it myself, but _you_ had to mess it all up like the silly girl you are!" he said, grabbing her arm as she began walking away, not wanting to hear it.

She turned around, slapping him in the face in one, swift movement. He moved to hit her back, but she dodged his attempt, grabbing hold of his arm sternly and she continued to stare at him, her rage unable to be held back now, "Are you touched in the head?!" she started, "You should not have approached Church and Biddle, Connor! It was irresponsible and uncalled for! You _don't_ just walk up to our targets and demand answers!" she scolded him.

"I want Charles Lee!" he explained, walking out of the Captain's Cabin behind her.

"And I want my father's head on a steak, but you don't see me going up to the Templars and asking them to tell me where the figlio di un puttana (son of a bitch) is, do you?!" she continued, "You call me a silly little girl? You're a fool, Connor. An idiot who is blinded by your own _personal_ pursuits! You've already broken a moral we have been taught to stand by!"

He crossed his arms, "Oh? And what moral is that?"

" _Hide in plain sight,_ you incompetent child!" she reminded him.

He realized that she was right. He had broken one of the three rules that all Assassins must stand by under any circumstances.

"Now, now..." Faulkner tried to settle the teenagers down.

"Stay out of this!" they both snapped at the man and he backed off, shaking his head and letting them settle their feud.

"Go into the cabin, _now!_ " Connor ordered her.

"I will _not_! I'm staying where I choose to. You want to be the Captain of the ship? Get your ass at the helm, do what you have to and get us home!" she denied his request.

"We _will_ settle this when we return to the manor." he said, stepping up to her and looking her in the face.

"Yes, we will." she sneered, watching him as he turned to take his place at the wheel.


	9. We Are Assassins

"The older man is a Templar," Connor informed Faulkner as he stood at the helm, "Who was he with?" he asked the man.

Violette looked up to the sky, shaking her head. He just wouldn't let it go. Furthermore, he should have been able to recognize the man from the portrait back in the manor. She made her way next to Connor's side.

"A Templar?" Faulkner repeated, unsure if Connor was saying that the man may also be an enemy, "The young buck was Nicholas Biddle. Nobody. Sails before the mast—midshipman for the Crown."

"You would know that if you paid closer attention to our enemies and their positions, Connor." Violette jeered her partner.

"Be quiet." he hissed at his counterpart, turning to Faulkner once more, "Are the guns ready?" he asked.

"Aye," the man confirmed, "But we won't jump in over our heads. We'll find a suitable target and show you and the lass how they work."

"She will not be controlling the ship and will have no need to learn of gun use, either." Connor spoke sternly.

"That is not your decision, Connor," she told the teen, "We're to work together and must learn everything together as well."

"She's right. You two are a pair and 'ought to work as such." Faulkner agreed with the young woman.

"Grazie, Signore." she thanked him.

"We've fitted her with a modest amount of guns to start, but rest assured, there's ample room to add more, should you feel the need."

"He will feel the need to, I guarantee it." Violette commented.

Connor looked at her, "Shut up." he spat.

She waved him off with her hand, not caring what he had to say at this moment. She was extremely disappointed in his actions. He should have known better than to demand the location of a Templar. Had he learnt nothing in all the time they'd spent training to become Assassins?

Violette's expression turned to one of horror as the Aquila came to a stop between two separate ships that had crashed into rocks. They looked so void of life and she could only wonder what suffering the people on board went through. The thought was haunting and the appearance of the ship haunted her mind as she could imagine the agonizing screams of those aboard.

"Looks like a British Frigate with half seas over. Should do nicely for a spot of target practice."

"But, Signore," Violette began, "The ship has already been destroyed. This was the place of some people's last moments of life. Do you believe it would be right to disturb it?"

"Don't worry, lass," Faulkner spoke, "I understand you feel for those lost, but they've been long gone now." he explained. She nodded, accepting his words, "Bring her around broad side and when all guns are on target, call 'fire'." he told Connor.

Once the guns were prepped, one of the gunmen announced such and Violette passed the message on to Connor, but it didn't seem like he heard her, "Connor, the guns are ready." she tried again, but his eyes were locked on to the dead ship. Was he caught up in the same thoughts she was several moments ago? She smacked him lightly on his cheek, getting his attention immediately.

"What?!" he yelled, holding his hand to his cheek.

"The guns are ready, idiota (idiot)." she informed him a third time.

He pointed out to the wrecked ship, giving the gunmen time to aim the cannons in the requested direction and yelled 'fire!'.

The violent but short jolts and deafening booms of the cannons firing startled Violette, but it was something that she could quickly get used to.

"Well done, boy!" Faulkner commended Connor, "Now, aim all guns at her bow and do as much damage as possible." he ordered him, pointing toward the area he was speaking of, "Afterward, Violette will get a chance to do the same as you."

"Perhaps I will do even better than you, Connor." Violette teased her counterpart.

He scoffed, "You're a silly girl. You can _never_ be better than me at anything." he said confidently.

"Tell that to our arching scores." she came back smoothly and he stayed silent.

It was true that her aim with a bow and arrow was much more calculated than his. Still, he would hone that skill to be better than her eventually. Achilles had spoken of him being the brute force while she carried a more soft, precise touch, but still a deadly one at that. He wanted to be able to perfect each and every skill he could. Even she had her weaknesses, yet she'd managed to take out an entire group of mercenaries and saved Lance's life on her own with her hidden blades and sword.

Connor ordered the crew to fire and the cannon balls ripped through the ship that was already falling apart. Faulkner seemed pleased with the results as well.

"Good!" he commended Connor, "Now, how about we give the swivel guns a turn? They're more precise."

"I will handle this, Connor." Violette informed her partner, "Precision isn't your specialty, after all." she teased as she made her way over.

Connor sneered at her remark, "For now. Wait until I ban you from the ship."

"If you do so, I will have Achilles put you in your place. You need a talking to, anyway, since you've clearly forgotten."

"I will throw you off of this ship right now!" he yelled.

"Nobody is throwing anyone overboard, you two!" Faulkner intervened, "Go on Violette. Hit those powder barrels and light up the sky."

"Va bene, nessun problema! (Alright, no problem!)" she beamed, aiming the gun and firing. She hit the target, the barrels exploding up in the air with parts of the ship bursting out in different directions followed by smoke left in its wake. The crew cheered and Faulkner enthused that such a sight never gets old.

"Not bad for a spud, Cap'n!" Faulkner complimented the teen, "With enough practice, you and Violette would make the perfect pair for the Aquila!"

Connor liked the sound of that, turning to Violette, "From now on, you will address me as 'Captain'." he ordered her.

She laughed aloud before giving him a stern look, "In your dreams, bambino (child)."

"The Old Man is like to have my hide for keeping you two out so long...we should be heading back now."

Connor called for full sail and began to head toward the Homestead.

Violette enjoyed the breeze coming from the open waters. Perhaps she would be able to get used to being on a ship soon enough. Suddenly, a ship began shooting at the Aquila. "Merda! (Shit!)" Violette swore, startled by the sudden engagement and made her way to Connor's side.

"Why is he shooting at us?!" Connor asked, panic and confusion clear in his voice.

"Destroying property of the Crown, disturbing the King's peace; take your pick." Faulkner explained.

"What do we do, signore?" Violette asked the man.

"Naught else but to fight back! Sink the bastard!" Faulkner exclaimed.

"Fatto! (Done!)" the teenager agreed, taking hold of a swivel gun.

With fair coordination, Connor maneuvered the Aquila as needed for Violette to take clear shots at the ships, sinking them one by one. He was surprised by her precision, but did not give her any recognition for it, keen on not giving her a chance to think that he would want her on the Aquila after this.

"English frigate!" a crewman called out. Connor and Violette looked over to see another vessel sail next to them, the ship being close enough that they could see the crew aboard the enemy ship preparing the cannons to fire.

"Brace!" Connor called out, causing everyone to duck immediately, feeling the momentum of the cannon balls flying past them and the slight impact of others.

They proceeded to go through the routine of bracing and firing at the frigate until it finally sank. Violette watched as men aboard jumped into the water, frantically paddling to any piece of floating debris to cling on to. She knew that was their fate, but there was nothing that could be done about it. Their souls would remain with the ship that slowly sank deeper into the water.

"Let's go home, Connor." she spoke, hearing him call for full sail as she continued to look at the sinking ship.

* * *

Upon returning to the harbour of the Homestead, Violette and Connor watched as a man babbled on about getting him what he needs and he'd give 'all of 'em' to their crew members.

"Mia Dio, è pazzo. (My God, he's crazy.)" Violette mumbled to herself.

"Who is that man?" Connor asked Faulkner.

"Him?" he asked in return, receiving a nod from the teen, "Some ol' salt, always on about some letters he's got from Captain Kidd. Nonsense, really, but he doesn't hurt no one, so I leave him be." he explained, "Talk to him if you fancy, but be warned, he'll chew your ear off. Anyway, the Aquila's here for you. If you should get a pang for the open sea, we'll be waiting. Now, I implore you to head up the hill 'fore the Old Man comes out of retirement just for me."

Violette giggled at Faulkner's concern for his own safety, considering that Achilles couldn't even stand without a cane. They made their way back to the manor, taking a deep breath before entering as quietly as possible.

"Three weeks," they heard immediately, stopping their movements and standing in place with the door wide open, "and not even a goodbye before you left. You children are ungrateful. Do you think I enjoy being an old father? My time for parenting is long gone, but you two need to be looked after. Would it kill you to consider that I still exist before running off without a 'thank you' or 'goodbye'?" he lectured them.

"Sorry." "Mi dispiace, Mentore. (I'm sorry, Mentor)" Connor and Violette spoke.

Achilles turned around and began to walk, looking back to see the two of them still standing in place like statues on a church, "Well, what are you waiting for?" he asked the two, who immediately began to follow him down to the training room.

Connor went directly to the robes, as he did every time he entered the room. These robes were different from the usual ones, however.

"Put them on." Achilles spoke to the young man, who looked at him in surprise before quickly doing as told.

Violette and Achilles waited while Connor put the robes on and the moment she saw him walk out in the new clothing, she felt as if her heart fluttered in her chest. What was this new feeling?

"Violette," Achilles called to her, "There is something in there for you." he told the young girl, pointing at a package with his cane. She was elated when she unwrapped the package to see purple robes, fitted with leather straps and everything else Assassin robes entailed.

"This is for me, Mentore?" she asked, unable to stop herself from smiling in her excitement.

"You have earned them just as much as Connor has earned these ones. Go on, put them on and join his side." the old man encouraged her.

She wasted little time in putting the robes on and when she walked out, she seemed to have become different and she felt the same way. She felt like a woman, empowered with knowledge, strength, stealth, precision and everything else she could still learn. She felt like she could take on the world and conquer it.

"How do I look?" she asked Connor.

Connor stared at her, "Y-you look..." he stuttered, looking away quickly without finishing his sentence.

Violette couldn't help herself and embraced Achilles in her gratitude, "Grazie (Thank you), for everything you have given us, Mentore." she spoke before joining Connor's side.

"Once upon a time, we had a ceremony on such occasions, but I don't think that any of us are really the type for that. You've your tools and training. Your targets and goals, and now, you have your titles. Welcome to the Brotherhood, Connor and Violette."


	10. This Is Theft!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure when I'll be uploading again, but here's something for you all. Happy holidays. :)

_**1773 ...** _

Connor and Violette were sparring in the training room, a daily ritual to ensure they stayed above their enemies in any way possible and to keep in touch with each other's tactics. Seeing their Mentor make his way down the stairs, Violette called a break, her counterpart backing away and wiping his forehead as he caught his breath.

"Connor? Violette? Spare a moment?" the old man asked them.

"Sì, Mentore." "Of course." they answered, turning to face him, both of their gaze falling upon the rope in Achilles' hands.

"Have a look," he spoke, handing the rope to Connor.

Violette observed the spear-like tip at the end of it, "What is it?" she asked.

"A 'sheng biao', or rope dart, if you prefer," Achilles answered his inquisitive student, "This will come in handy for you two."

She nodded, watching as Connor began to swing the rope dart in a circular motion, his eyes on their Mentor.

"One of the many plans given to us by Shao Jun to—" Achilles was cut off instantly by Connor's hand slipping, the dart flying off and narrowly missing Violette and burying itself into a post.

"Mia Dio, si mi ha quasi ucciso! (My God, you almost killed me!)" Violette yelled out. If it weren't for her instinctive ability to dodge, the spiked end would have gone straight into her abdomen.

Connor looked at her, embarrassed that he made such a mistake, "Sorry." he spoke, looking to Violette as she rested her hand on his shoulder as a means of forgiving him.

Achilles sighed, "We'll have to work on this. Perhaps you two should go out into the woods and practice—" he spoke, interrupted once again, but this time by a knock on the door.

The three made their way up and Connor answered, surprised to see his friend from his village, Kanatahséton, "Kanen'tó:kon?" the Assassin answered, Violette appearing next to her partner.

"Yes, my friend." he answered Connor, giving Violette a nod to greet her and she did the same.

"What brings you here?" Connor asked as he stepped out, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder, "Is the village alright?" he answered, worried that the worst may have come upon his tribe so suddenly.

"For now," Kanen'tó:kon replied simply.

"What do you mean?" Violette asked, unable to help herself from being worried as well. Even though Connor was from that village, they did not see her as an outsider when visiting due to her close friendship to the Assassin.

"What has happened?" Connor asked.

"Men came, claiming we had to leave," Kanen'tó:kon began, "They said that the land was being sold and that the Confederacy had consented. We sent an envoy, but they would not listen." he finished, the heartbreak in his voice distinct.

"You must refuse!" Connor spoke sternly.

Violette looked at her partner. She knew that he was one to easily get entangled in his own emotions, but she also knew the importance of tribes standing up for themselves against the forceful opposition.

Kanen'tó:kon shook his head, "We cannot oppose the sachem, but you are right as well. We cannot give up our home."

Connor leaned against the post behind him, lost in thought. What could he possibly do to stop this? How could the Kanien'kehá:ka defend themselves when considering the power these men held?

"Something must be done, Connor. These are your people." Violette supported him as she stepped out, placing a hand on Kanen'tó:kon's shoulder briefly.

Her partner nodded in agreement, looking to his friend, "Do you have a name? Do you know who is responsible?" he asked.

"He is called 'William Johnson'." Kanen'tó:kon confirmed.

"Of course it would be Johnson." Violette spoke out, knowing that he was part of the Colonial Rite and held responsibility for land operations.

"Where is Johnson now?" Connor asked Kanen'tó:kon.

"In Boston, making preparations for the sale."

"Sale?! This is _theft_!" Connor exclaimed angrily.

"Connor, take care. These men are powerful." Achilles spoke up softly as he was listening to the conversation as well.

"What would you have me do?" Connor asked their mentor, upset and confused as to why this was even possible. Violette tried to comfort her counterpart, but he put his hand on her shoulder to move her aside, "I made a promise to my people." he finalized.

Achilles sighed, "If you insist upon this course of action, seek out Sam Adams in Boston. He'll be able to help." he suggested.

Violette nodded in agreement, though she wasn't very fond of the man herself. Regardless, he was still an ally.

Connor held his hand out to Kanen'tó:kon, who handed him the tomahawk he carried with him. He glanced over before swiftly and precisely embedding the weapon into the post outside the front door of the manor, leaving Achilles and Violette in shock, her hands covering her mouth.

"What have you done?!" Achilles asked, irritation in his voice as he looked at the hatchet and then back to his student.

Connor turned to his mentor, "When my people go to war, a hatchet is buried into a post to signify its start. When the threat is ended, the hatchet is removed." Connor explained, turning and walking away, pushing Violette along in front of him while Kanen'tó:kon followed.

"You could have used a tree!" he called out, shaking his head and walking back into his home, "I'm too old for children this temperamental." he mumbled to himself.

"Haytham must know that Kanatahséton belongs to your people, Connor." Violette spoke up.

The thought of the man made his stomach turn, "I know that, Violette!" he replied through gritted teeth.

"Should we not be more curious as to _why_ he is after your village rather than act on impulse?" she suggested.

"We do not have time for that. We must find William Johnson and eliminate him."

She continued to walk with him once his hand released from her back and she fell into a steady pace behind him, "Not so abruptly, Connor. It may not be necessary at this moment."

He stopped and turned to her, causing her to almost walk into him, "This man is a Templar, Violette. He must die, no matter when or how." he argued.

"You are always so quick to inflict fatality upon those that you believe do not deserve to live any longer." she said, disappointed that he was being as stubborn as ever.

"What would you have me do, then? What is _your_ idea?" he offered her a chance to conjure up some other way of handling such a serious matter.

"As I stated before," she spoke, "We should find out what their intentions are first; what exactly is happening instead of readily attacking these men and not thinking of the repercussions of our actions."

"You do that, then. I will take matters into my own hands." he stood adamant in his decision.

"We're to consult Achilles before taking immediate action, Connor. We cannot do such things of our own free will. Doing such a thing would be breaching a tenet."

"What tenet?!" he yelled, irritated in her suggestions based on their studies.

"Never compromise the Brotherhood, be it direct or indirect." she answered, "You know this, amico (friend). We must act accordingly and not raise unnecessary conflict." she finished, receiving a huff of discontent from her counterpart, "I'm only trying to help, Connor. We must take care to act based on our wisdom and experience from training. Kanatahséton will be safe for the time being. These men will not rush as quickly as you intend to."

Connor stared at her for several moments and he seemed unable to pry his eyes away from her. He noticed the golden glow in her brown eyes, realizing that he'd never seen it before.

"Please, Connor." she spoke gently, breaking him away from his mind wandering elsewhere.

He looked away, "Fine. We shall do this your way." he agreed, gaining and 'thank you' in return.

* * *

Upon the two Assassins readying to leave the Homestead for Boston, Connor heard someone calling for help. He turned to Violette, "Do you hear that?" he asked.

She listened closely, looking to Connor and nodding once hearing as well. They both made their way toward the cries, finding a woman on the ground, holding her arm, "Bloody hell! Can you help me?" she asked the two.

"Are you alright?" Connor asked the woman.

She looked at him, "What do you think?" she asked sarcastically in return.

"How did this happen, signorina (miss)?" Violette asked, bending down to help tend to the wounds that needed more immediate attention.

"Poachers in the woods," she started, "I asked them to leave. _This_ was their answer." she finished, looking to her arm to further explain the situation.

Connor picked her up, "Come on. We need to get that arm looked at." he told her, taking great care to not hurt the woman's arm any further.

Violette looked on, unsure as to how she felt about her partner holding another woman so tenderly in his arms. He would never treat her that way. Still, this woman needed help and this was no time to thing of herself in such a way.

"What of the men who did this?" the woman asked.

"They can wait," Connor spoke, "Your wound cannot."

"I will seek them out," Violette offered, "Connor will ensure you are taken care of." the teen spoke, giving the woman a gentle smile and receiving a 'thank you'.

"You know how to find me." she told Connor, running off to find the poachers.

He stopped for a second to watch her before moving as quickly as he could without injuring the woman, "Will you be able to make it to the house?" he asked her.

"Yes," she answered, "I think the ball took only flesh."

"And what is your name?" he enquired.

"Myriam." she answered after a few moments.

"Do you live nearby?" he asked yet another question.

"Ah," she began, "I-I don't have a home, per se. I took to the frontier when I was a young girl. I made my life out here ever since, living where the land makes it easiest." she elaborated.

"Not a common choice for a woman of the Colonies." Connor commented.

"N-No, it's not, but truth be told, it was this, the convent or the brothels." she answered, catching her breath as her pain made breathing seemingly harder, "I prefer the open air."

As they approached the manor, Myriam looked at the Assassin, "Will your wife be alright with this?"

"What?" he asked, unsure as to what she was referring to.

"The woman you were with when you found me. Is she your wife or your lover?" she asked.

Connor's cheeks heated, "S-She is neither. She is my friend." he stuttered.

"I see," Myriam replied, unable to hide her giggling, but saying nothing else.

Connor rested Myriam gently on the steps of the manor, quickly making his way to find Violette. The thought that she might have found herself in some sort of trouble worried him and caused his feet to carry him hastily toward her as he followed her tracks, taking to the trees to cover more ground.

When he arrived, he looked on as Violette threw the rope dart toward one of the poachers, jumping down and bringing his body up to hang him as she embedded the other end into the ground to keep him stuck there, grabbing the attention of the man he was walking with.

Connor manoeuvred instinctively, driving the rope dart through his shoulder and pulling him away from his counterpart and toward him, slitting his throat with his hidden blade once dragging the man close enough to him. He stealthily found himself behind another man who was looking for the rest of the poachers. Connor grabbed him once close enough, pressing his blade to the man's throat, "Shooting strangers in the forest? Is that common hunting practice where you come from?" he asked the poacher.

"N-No! I—" he began, but stopped once Connor pushed him away.

"Spare me! Go! Tell the friends you have left what happened here!" he ordered the man, who wasted no time in running for his own life.

Connor looked around for his partner, gazing up in time to see Violette jump down toward him, causing them both to fall, her landing on top of him.

"You said you'd catch me if I fell." she smiled, receiving one in return.

"You didn't fall." he countered her words, getting up as she did.

Violette brushed the grass off of her robes, "How is the woman?" she asked.

"Achilles is tending to her. We should return."

"Sì." she agreed, the both of them making their way back to the manor, turning it into a race as they tended to, though the outcome did not matter as much as it did when they were younger.

The two walked into the room, where they found their mentor with the woman.

"Thank you, Achilles," she gave her gratitude to the old man.

"You are most welcome." he spoke, sitting down at the table with her.

"Why did those men attack you?" Connor asked her.

"It's no secret this land is full with game. I spotted the trespassers en route to request permission to hunt here myself and suggested they do the same." she explained.

"The bounty of this forest is not ours to give. It is your right to hunt on this land, but we would appreciate you trading your surplus with the others." Violette spoke, still uncertain about the woman.

"Very well. I accept." she smiled, extending her hand to the female Assassin, "I am Myriam," she introduced herself.

Violette greeted her with the same gesture, "Octavia Violette D'Egidio, but you may call me 'violet', as the others do."

Myriam's shack was built out in the northeast of the Homestead, where she could quickly and quietly hunt game without very much distraction. While Violette was still unsure about the woman, she would have to accept that she couldn't always remain the only one on the land. Sure, Terry and Godfrey's wives were living on the Homestead as well, but they weren't independent like Myriam and didn't cause Violette to feel the way Myriam did. Though, she felt some unnecessary need to protect Connor from Myriam. She wasn't sure why, but she supposed time would tell for itself.

* * *

_**Boston...** _

As Connor and Violette located Samuel Adams, the teen couldn't help but notice that he was speaking with a group of men. Naturally, she knew Connor's nature and quickly halted him before approaching their ally, telling him to be polite. He brushed her off, unsurprisingly and continued on.

"Ah, Connor! Violette!" Sam greeted them.

"Buon pomeriggio, Sam. (Good afternoon, Sam.)" Violette greeted him, looking to Connor who said nothing. She still wasn't sure as to why the man had seemingly no manners after spending so much time training to be inconspicuous. Then again, the changes he'd made to his robes spoke nothing if not part of the Kanien'kehá:ka.

"What brings you two to Boston?" Sam asked.

"You." Connor replied simply, his soft voice when speaking and the smirk on his lips was something that Violette never noticed before. It was something she felt that she wouldn't mind seeing more of.

Samuel dismissed the men he was speaking with beforehand, giving the Assassins his full attention. His hand resting gently on Violette's back as he led them away to speak irked Connor, but this wasn't the time to tell an ally not to touch his counterpart. Why should it have mattered anyway?

"Thank you," Samuel spoke to them, "That conversation was about to turn unpleasant. Now, what can I do for you and the misses?" he offered his assistance.

"Miss." Violette corrected the man, unsure as to why he would speak as if she were married.

"We were hoping you could help us locate William Johnson." Connor explained.

"Of course! I'm headed to a meeting with some men who should be able to help. Why don't you two come along?" the man invited them.

"Grazie. (Thank you.)" Violette spoke with a subtle smile as they began to walk.

"It's good to see the people finally taking a stand against injustice." Samuel commented.

"Says the man who owns a slave." Connor said deadpanned,

"Connor!" Violette hissed, nudging him with her elbow: a reminder to stay polite and not always speak his mind whenever he pleased, though it was a trait of his she couldn't help but adore.

Samuel laughed, "Who? Surry? I practice what I preach, my friends. She's not a slave, but a freed woman: at least on paper. Men's minds are not so easily turned. It's a tragedy that for all our progress, still we cling to such barbarism."

"Then why do you not speak out against it?" Violette suggested.

"We must focus first on defending our rights. When this is done, we'll have the luxury of addressing these other matters." he explained to the teens.

"I do not understand why other people's rights take precedence over any other's, but surely you understand what you speak of better than Connor or I do." Violette spoke, unsatisfied with the answer their ally gave.

"You speak as though your condition is equal to that of the slaves. It is not." Connor accentuated to Samuel, agreeing with his partner.

"Tell that to my neighbour who was compelled to quarter British troops, or to my friend whose store was closed because he displeased the Crown. The people here are no freer than Surry." Samuel defended.

Violette saw that the conversation was taking a turn for what could have been the worst, but she still agreed with Connor. While there were others that had their own problems to face during this revolution, nobody had to right to own another human being.

"You offer excuses instead of solutions. All people should be equal and _not_ in turns." Connor reasoned.

"It's in turns or not at all," Samuel stood his ground, "We must compromise, Connor, however painful that may be. Try and solve all of the world's problems at the same time and you'll wind up solving none at all."

"That is your opinion, within reason, Sam," Violette spoke up, "But I believe we all need to stand up for ourselves and those who cannot fight for themselves. That is what our purpose is."

Samuel nodded, "Indeed, Violette."

Their attentions were turned to a man yelling outside of his home window, "It's my home, no matter what you thieves called 'taxmen' say! If the 'gumps' in Parliament who want my property, you tell them to sail across the pond and take it themselves!" he yelled with a French accent, moving back inside.

"It's not open for discussion!" the man standing outside the front door spoke out, "Now open this door or these men will break it down!" he ordered.

The Frenchman peeped back out of his window, quickly tilting his chamber pot, the urine splashing down in front of the man threatening him.

"Caro Dio (Dear God)." Violette muttered to herself.

"Oh, bollocks! We're coming in!" a redcoat said and began the process of breaking a window to enter the man's home.

The Frenchman stormed out of his front door, crashing into the taxman and breaking the railing directly in front of his door, sending the both of them to fall over and onto the ground below.

Connor and Violette looked at each other before their eyes turned to Samuel.

"I trust the mounting evidence is proof enough for you two." Samuel spoke to them.

"Continue on," Connor told the man, "Violette and I shall meet you at our destination."

Violette followed her counterpart, unsheathing her sword and hidden blade as Connor grabbed one of the redcoats, slicing the man's throat with his tomahawk. She quickly countered another soldier's attempt to strike her, kicking him in between the legs and decapitating him with her sword. The two continued to fight with the Frenchman against the redcoats until there were none left.

Violette had admiration for the Frenchman, who was protecting himself with a simple butcher's knife that would be found in almost any home kitchen. It wasn't every day that they would see such a thing. Then again, it wasn't every day that they saw someone else who had the audacity to fight against those who represented the Crown.

"Justice for once. I dare the Governor to send more!" the Frenchman spoke, spitting on the ground after, causing Violette to look at him with a curious expression on her face.

"Are you well, signore (sir)?" Violette asked.

"Oui, merci. (Yes, thank you.)" he spoke, "It is not my first dance. For all their teeth and claws, these little foxes, they fight like puppies. Thank you, my friends. I would buy you two an ale, but I'm expected somewhere else."

Connor and Violette nodded, the man taking off to be wherever he was needed.

"He fights well." the Assassin spoke to his partner.

"Sì, he does. I hope he will be alright."

"Yes. We must carry on to the meeting." he told her, the two of them running to meet Samuel as quickly as possible.

* * *

The Assassins entered the tavern, immediately greeted by Samuel, "Connor! Violette! I'd like you two to meet some like-minded friends. The owner of this fine establishment, William Molineaux, and the manager and chef of his newest venture, Stephane Chapheau."

Violette beamed upon seeing their recently-made friend so soon again.

"Ah, Connor, Violette and I just had a ball with some redcoats enforcing some taxmen outside of my home!" Stephane spoke enthusiastically.

"The collectors grow bolder and more forceful," Molineaux spoke, "Something we _must_ address, Samuel."

Samuel nodded in agreement to his colleague's words, "Then let us raise a banner," he suggested, "Something to let the people know that they are not alone."

"Do you have anything in mind specifically, Sam?" Violette asked, arms crossed and leaning lightly against Connor—something that she had a habit of doing for the past few months and his hand found her shoulder, supporting her.

"The docks are an angry place as of late," Samuel explained, "protesters picketing the latest shipments of British tea. The eyes of the city are upon that stage."

"A Bostonian without his tea is a dangerous beast!" Stephane commented.

"William Johnson is smuggling the tea off of the ships." Molineaux spoke out, "One of his men tried to sell me this," he continued, placing a bag on the bars surface. Samuel picked it up to examine it further, Connor and Violette leaning in to observe it as well, "A sample of what I refused," Molineaux further explained, "But it's from those ships—no mistaking the stamp. He's charging a king's ransom. He must be making a mint off of those who buy it."

"Where is he now?" Connor asked, receiving a glare from Violette as she knew he naturally tried to jump to the quickest solution.

"I never met the man." Molineaux said.

Samuel looked over at the Assassins, "May I ask why you two seek him in such dire need?"

"He intends to purchase the land upon which my village stands, without the consent of my people." Connor explained, Violette frowning at the idea that his people could lose the land their homes had sat upon for so many years.

"No doubt the revenue from his little smuggling endeavour is financing the acquisition." Samuel put the two together.

"We must act before it is too late, signori (gentlemen), but we cannot be impulsive. What we plan to do is already enough to bring unwanted attention to Connor and I." Violette commented, all agreeing with the teen Assassin.

"A tax enforced on tea grants a boon to smugglers," Samuel spoke, "I'll wager the same men who levy the taxes are selling the tea. A stage requires a spectacle and I may know the play." he spoke confidently.

"Caro Dio (Dear God)." Violette spoke, knowing that what the man had already planned was going to most definitely arouse the wrong crowd. Still, they needed some way to prevent the land the Kanien'kehá:ka lived upon and if this was what it would take, so be it.

They spoke about the cargo for the tea being guarded at the docks, but that shouldn't have been a problem for the two of them. When they stepped out, Violette stopped Connor from walking and he stared into her eyes, "I would do anything to help you and your people, Connor, even if that means bringing the attention of the Templars directly on us." she gave her word.

He placed his hand on top of hers, "I'll always catch you if you fall."

She blushed at his words before breaking free of the moment, "Race you!"


End file.
